To The Brink
by DyrraDegan
Summary: This story begins with The Exile's return to consciousness after Kreia's attack on Dantooine.  I have written this as a challenge both to embroider together the plot at the end and to do it without Atton.  Please read and review. LSFExileMical
1. Chapter 1

_Hi everyone, this is the first thing I have attempted to write in a long, long time so I would absolutely love to hear anything constructive that you have to say. I know this is short, but there is more to come. Also, I have decided to not give my Exile a name-I always find it distracting when I read a fic and the name is different from my character. Anyhow, enjoy!_

_Oh...and I don't own any of these characters, they are property of Lucasarts, Bioware and Obsidian Entertainment._

* * *

The Exile was lying crumpled in the grass, drained from the enormity of what the Masters had been attempting to do to her. The sound of Kreia's voice came to her as if from underwater. She recognized some of the words "truth"…"arrogance"… "harm"… "tragedies"…as they wisped through the recesses of her mind. She knew these words should mean something but the sound was distant and disjointed.

Suddenly a cacophony of noise rang out. It sliced through the murky haze of her thoughts and shook her to the very core. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. Summoning all of her remaining power she forced her conscious to surface again to reality and pulled herself to a standing and ready position.

Her vision cleared and she saw them. Her masters, her mentors were all lying motionless in the grass. She broke into a run, pulling out her medpacs as she went. "Kreia, what have you done?" She dropped to her knees by Master Zez-Kal-Eli but there was nothing she could do. He was worse than dead, his body was an empty vessel that had been stripped hollow of The Force.

"Master Vrook!" she cried, panic rising in her voice. Moving to him the enormity of what had happened began to wash over her in waves. He too was dead, stripped of the Force, stripped of his very essence and in that instant she was unable to move. She could not look towards the last and dearest of her Masters.

Her whisper was strangled, "Kavar…" She took a deep breath and stood, moving purposely to the spot where he lay. She lowered herself to the grass and leaned forward. She grasped Kavar gently by the shoulders, turning him over and pulling him into her lap. "Oh Kavar…where have you gone?" She stroked his hair, "You were innocent. You listened to me, you admitted the fear of the counsel, you were open to the idea that perhaps the teachings were flawed. You were not arrogant…you trusted me…"

They had all trusted her, perhaps against their own senses. Even Master Vrook with his caustic demeanor had agreed to meet in this place and had imparted his teaching upon her. She realized they had been right about her. She had killed them all. Her eyes widened as the rage rose from within her like a tidal wave. She screamed and it was more powerful than any force scream mustered in battle. She screamed until she tasted blood. She screamed until she thought her heart would burst, hoping with her entire soul that it would.

In that moment she was intimately familiar with what had cut her off from the force. The sheer magnitude of loss was tearing at her. She now knew that she had pulled out all of the connections herself until she was deaf, until she was blind. She had done it to keep the storm of anguish from tearing her apart. Not this time. She opened herself to the rage, to the agony and let it lash at her. She would not deafen herself to punishment this time.

Kreia…

Kreia…

Kreia…

The words whispered in her skull, slicing through the undirected pulsations of rage and pain. Kreia…her anger began to come into focus. Manipulator…agony joined in. Betrayer…her power focused like a blade.

"I will destroy you Kreia. I will obliterate every shred of evidence that you ever existed if it takes my life. I will end you so thoroughly and so utterly that the Universe will barely register a whisper when it comes. You will be forgotten. None shall mourn you and I will use my power to the very end to ensure the force thrives."

Very gently she lowered Kavar back to his resting place. He wore a small Ondoronian royal seal on a thin cord around his neck. She removed it and placed it in her side pouch. She would return it to Talia and tell her all that had happened in person. Another heart would be broken, another life thrown into chaos because of the trust that had been placed in her. Stroking his hair again and for the last time she stood.

"I will not leave you to the Kath Hounds"

Raising her right arm, her newly focused power exploded lifting the Earth directly in front of her into the air. She buried her masters, her mentors and the last of the Jedi Council in one graceful movement. Focusing on the remains of the courtyard she delicately unearthed one of the Trees of Life and moved it to rest on the grave. She coaxed it into bloom, took one long last look and turned to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Her friends.

The masters were dead, Kreia was gone and her friends were sitting ducks in the Ebon Hawk. The Exile broke into a solid, steady run towards Koonda and the Ebon Hawk as she tugged her comm out of her belt.

"Atton!" she yelled, "Atton, do you read me?!"

The comm crackled to life, "Something up?" came the slow, familiar drawl.

"Atton! Where is Kreia? Has she returned to the Hawk yet?"

"Nooooo…I thought she was with you?" he replied, his voice immediately sounding cautious.

"She was…" the Exile took a deep breath, speaking softly, "Atton, she has fallen to the dark side…she murdered the Masters…they're all gone…"

The comm registered nothing but static.

"Atton?" she queried, "Atton, this is important. I think she may be headed straight for you and the rest of the crew. I need you to take off immediately."

There was a sound of the comm being engaged from the other end. A moment passed and he spoke, sounding more deadly serious than she had ever heard him.

"What about you?"

"Atton, I'm alright. She couldn't have been planning to kill me…at least not yet. I promise you I'm safe but you aren't. Please, I need you to take off right now!" she replied, the urgency in her voice rising.

But no reply came.

"Rand? RAND?!"

Cursing she jammed the comm back into her belt and picked up the pace of her stride to a sprint. Her gait cut a swath through the long blades of grass as the wind whipped past her temples. With each step, broken stalks released a soft, vague sweetness into the air as the sun gently warmed her back. It was as if the very surface of Dantooine was attempting in vain to soothe her.

In many ways this place reminded her of Mical-sweet, gentle and coolly composed but powerful. It was not surprising to her at all that the Jedi Council had chosen to build the Enclave on Dantooine. The planet was the very embodiment of the Jedi Code. It was peace, it was knowledge and it was serenity at its core.

Mical…Atton…Bao…her companions. "How many death warrants have I signed? Is this your reward for your faith in me?" she thought. Kreia had been a masterful manipulator. She had succeeded in destroying the last of the masters in the ruins of their own Enclave and now she was gone and her dear friends were in danger. Images of them began to flash through her head as she ran.

She thought of Atton.

She had engaged in more than one heated private discussion with Kreia about him. Kreia insisted that he was a fool time and time again. In hindsight she realized that this insistence was the first hint of manipulation. He was no fool; that was apparent to her the moment she met him. In fact, he had one of the shrewdest minds she had ever encountered. He had organized his behavior and his very thoughts down to the last detail in her presence initially and his vigilance at maintaining his façade never faltered. If she had blindly accepted Kreia's judgment of him and treated him as a fool he would have been lost to her. Thankfully she had given him her trust and treated him with respect. In time he allowed her in and revealed the truth of who he had been. She had helped him reconnect with the Force but he was still so untrained that it worried her. This was coupled with the fact that he carried an enormous burden of emotion with him that he could no longer control. More than once it had occurred to her that in another time and another place she could have easily been one of his victims. She knew he was keenly aware of that and she had felt the guilt within him. She also had felt his jealousy over her closeness with Mical. With Kreia bound straight for the Hawk, what would happen to him? Would she force him to turn to the dark side or would she just kill him outright?

She thought of Mical.

He was the first person she had encountered in years who was not broken in some way on the inside. The others had assumed he was inexperienced-a wide-eyed innocent, that he was so immersed in his studies that it rendered him totally incapable of comprehending the enormity of what they had survived. She knew they were wrong. He had been of age when the Mandalorian Wars had started. He was more than old enough to remember both the wars themselves and those he had lost to them. There wasn't a family in the galaxy that had escaped those conflicts unscathed. The difference with Mical was that he was a natural healer. In everything he did, he sought to cure, to fix, to soothe. There was no doubt that he was powerful. She had watched him destroy all manner of charging beasts on Dxun without breaking a sweat. He had also easily led his team through Freedon Nadd's tomb while she was on Onderon. In typical fashion he had done all he could to heal the dark energy within. But what was natural for him was to channel that power towards healing. He had large, strong hands that could easily crush a kath hound's neck but he applied them to things like fixing blaster wounds and compiling as many Jedi teachings as he could find. He existed to make things right and did so with gentle concern and unabashed love. If Kreia hurt him, if she so much as glanced in his direction…her eyes flared.

She thought of Bao Dur.

Her soft-spoken Zabrak tech had known her the longest. She had come to know him so well throughout their travels together on the Hawk and she felt guilty that she hadn't recognized him initially on Telos. She had taken quite a spectacular blow to the head but that wasn't the cause of her memory loss. When she had severed her connection to the Force she also forced a lot of her memories of the war into the very back of her mind. Without them continually assailing her thoughts she could function. It wasn't that she hadn't noticed him as a tech back then, she certainly had. He was bright and innovative and an utter perfectionist when it came to his work but as a General she had only spoken to him directly once or twice in passing. Complicating matters was his preference to separate himself from the rest of the crew. It was absolutely imperative for him to have a busy mind and she knew he was happiest when he had some project to work on. She also knew he was unsure of his appearance when he was around humans. He was aware of the human folklore surrounding creatures with horns and he never felt truly comfortable when he was in a group of them. In her mind's eye she could see him now-hunched over a small circuit panel with his remote hovering nearby. His features were illuminated by the soft blue light that emanated from his repulsor arm. His dark eyes were completely focused, his jaw set as he trained his Macrofuser and the tiny web of electronics that lay before him. He was beautiful to her.

Finally the Ebon Hawk came into view and without breaking stride she raced towards the ramp. "Dammit Rand!" she thought.

They were all beautiful to her.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry for any repeat of game dialogue here folks, I promise I will keep that to a minimum :)_

The Exile's footsteps clanged as she ran up the grating of the ramp. Knowing that time was of the essence, she veered straight for the cockpit. Braking next to the Navcomputer, she looked down and saw Atton on his hands and knees on the floor. He had been attempting to pull himself into a standing position. She sensed that he had taken a rather severe wound to the abdomen which she immediately tried to Force heal. This was only partially successful. While he made it to his feet, he was still clutching his mid-section, his breathing labored.

"Did Kreia come back on board?" she asked, perhaps a little sharply.

He took a breath and replied, "She's gone. The handmaidens came for her. They know who she is now."

Quickly, she began to pull an advanced medkit from one of her side pouches "Where are they taking her?" she asked as she equipped the kit to his free wrist.

With the medication flowing his breathing normalized and he managed to slowly straighten his posture. When he did, he met her eyes and said in a low tone, "They'll take her to Telos and Atris will do what she'll do with anyone she thinks is a Sith."

Realization dawned…

"Atris will execute her." She whispered.

"Yeah…she will." he said, "If she can."

"But Kreia and I are linked. If she dies…" she trailed off.

"Yeah…I know" he said.

Giving her head a mild shake she forced her features into a calm mask. She began to count cards in her head and hoped for once she could cheat a cheater. When she spoke it was with confidence and cool optimism, "Then we're going to Telos, we have no choice."

"That's what I was afraid you'd say." he replied, giving her an slow smile. If he knew her game, he was at least wise enough not to call her on it.

She smiled confidently at him, mask firmly in place and asked, "Oh, can I have an ETA on that?"

He dropped into the pilot's seat and began firing up the Hawk. "As soon as we hit hyperspace it should be about 4 hours."

"Ok" she said as she played a +/-2 card in her head, "I'll leave you to it"

She turned and made her exit from the cockpit, counting cards the whole way. But where was the rest of the crew? She hadn't looked around on the way in but she found it odd that Mical hadn't healed Atton immediately. As she entered the main hold, she got her answer. Mandalore and Mira were in their usual spots but they weren't moving. "Stasis Field, dammit!" she thought. Releasing them, Mandalore made a loud exclamation which she could only assume was a Mandalorian curse. Mira had hopped into a defensive posture. Determining that they were both alright, she turned to G0T0. The droid had seemed operational with the possible exception of the tendrils of smoke that were seeping out of his casing.

"G0T0 are you operational?" she asked.

"What…have…you…brought me?" it replied with a new and distinctive background buzz in its verbal processor.

"G0T0, head straight for Bao Dur and he will repair you." She ordered. The normally belligerent droid wobbled off in the direction of the garage.

She began to jog towards the Medical Bay and called over her shoulder, "How many grenades and stims can you two crank out in four hours?"

"How many pockets you got?" growled Mandalore.

"Get on it." she said.

Entering the Medical Bay she released Mical and breathed a sigh of relief…he was unharmed. He turned to her, his pale blue eyes filled with concern and asked, "Are you alright? Have you been hurt?"

"I am fine," she replied, "But Atton was attacked. I did my best and he is well enough to pilot the ship at the moment but when we hit hyperspace I would really appreciate it if you would take a look at him."

"Of course," he replied, "It would be my pleasure."

She knew it would be anything but pleasurable for either of them but she was grateful that Mical was so willing to try. She paused, giving him a soft smile which he returned and she continued down towards the garage.

On the way she met T3 who was emitting a few sparks but was making his way, however haltingly towards the garage. She also easily outstripped G0T0 who was still smoking and weaving drunkenly a few paces ahead of T3. Ducking under his round bottom she entered the garage and released Bao Dur.

"Are you alright, Bao?" she asked.

"Yes General," he replied, "What can I do?"

They both turned towards HK.

He was immobile but his blaster rifle was raised and there was a small, smoldering blast mark on the opposite wall.

The Exile's eyes widened, "He actually got a shot off!"

"Impressive!" concurred Bao Dur.

HK's eyes were emitting a low glow, "[Bitter Statement: Master, I only regret that I am unable to hand you charred meatbag innards...for now..."

Reaching forward, she forced HK's weapon into a lowered and safe position. "Bao, do you think you can get these droids operational within 4 hours?" she asked.

"I'll know for sure when I get inside, but I will do my best." he promised.

"Thank-you Bao," she called as she headed for the Starboard Dormitory.

Entering Visas chamber she released her from stasis and determined that she too was unharmed. She took a moment to appraise her of everything that had happened at the Enclave, where they were heading and why.

"Visas, I really have no idea what we will find once we enter the Academy. We have just under four hours until we arrive. I suggest you take that time to meditate, center yourself and prepare." She advised.

"Of course" Visas replied as she sat to meditate, "My life for yours…"

Visas words did not have the effect that was intended. Immediately the Exile's thoughts returned to what the Masters had told her in the Enclave. Were they all being unwittingly forced to sacrifice themselves for her? Was she really feeding on their power like carrion? The thought was so deeply distressing to her that she felt as if her very soul was grieving. She needed to be alone.

There was only one place left on the ship where she could go without being interrupted.

Turning 180 degrees she began to slowly head towards the Port Side of the Hawk. If there were any answers to be had she knew they would be in her old mentor's quarters.


	4. Chapter 4

The Exile entered her former Mentor's quarters. It did not appear that any of the austere furnishings had been disturbed and it was as meticulously tidy as it had been when she last meditated there. Initially at the Enclave she had felt huge, crashing waves of rage towards Kreia. But here, in the cool stillness of the Port Dormitory she felt as if her heart was breaking.

She thought of Kavar.

When she had cradled his body in her arms he had seemed so much smaller, so empty. It was like it wasn't truly him it all. His essence had been so utterly stripped, so completely drained that it panicked her. She hoped with all of her heart that he was still out there in some form and that Kreia had destroyed only the physical.

Kreia.

Against her reservations, she had opened herself to Kreia's teachings and reclaimed her connection with the Force. She thought of the hours she had spent within these walls training, meditating and perfecting her skills. At the time it had felt as if the universe was opening up to her once again. To think that this could all be siphoned energy…that she was slowly destroying the ones she loved…

And now they were out there in the Hawk, piloting, creating, repairing and preparing for Telos. All of it had been orchestrated by her-she was rushing them towards battle just as she had raced towards the Mandalorian Wars. She wondered what she would accomplish this time. It occurred to her that perhaps the destruction of Kreia and herself would be best for everyone.

She gazed at the double-bladed lightsaber in her hands and for once it felt heavy to her. For the moment, she laid it gently on the top bunk. Reaching up she removed the circlet from her head and gazed at it, turning it over in her hands. Another tool she used to amplify the Force. She placed it next to her weapon and her gauntlets followed shortly. She added her utility belt, boots and the outer tunics of her Jedi robes to the pile. She stood back from her gear-all of it visible indicators of someone who wielded the Force and took a deep breath. Reaching back she removed the tie that held her hair back so severely on her head and added it to the rest of her things.

She felt liberated.

She stood barefoot in the chill Dormitory air, clad only in an ivory Dramassian silk undershirt and dark pants feeling the cold metal under her feet. She faced the wall opposite the door and attempted to centre herself.

It was pointless. The fate of her companions was weighing on her consciousness so heavily that she was unable to truly concentrate. She closed her eyes for one more attempt when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the outside.

Mical came to a full stop in the doorway when he saw her. She was so achingly beautiful to him with her weapon cast aside and her hair hanging down. It glinted shades of chestnut and honey in the dim lighting of the dormitory. But her shoulders were slightly hunched and it looked as if she was carrying the weight of the Hawk on her small frame.

"Is something wrong?" he asked softly, "You look troubled-I can feel it."

She did not turn to face him but replied in a low tone, "Can you?"

"That is an odd answer, what did you mean by it?" he asked, the concern registering in his voice.

She took a deep breath. How could she explain this?

"Do you ever wonder why you're with me?" she asked.

"Never" he replied. His tone was so solidly confident and assuring that her spine straightened. He continued, "I believe in what we are doing-what you are doing. I am here because I choose to be."

Her face darkened, "But how do you know?" she asked.

"I simply do" he replied "There is nothing I can show you as proof except give you my word."

She felt the echo of his conviction as it filled the room and her concern deepened. Had she done this to him?

He spoke again, "Something happened within the Enclave. What is it?"

"I learned…"she paused, "...that I form connections through the Force-and that is why others follow me to their death."

He took a couple of quick paces towards her, stopping just out of arms reach. He could not see her face but he felt such a jumble of emotion coming from her-grief, anger, confusion and worry. He took a moment to organize his thoughts and spoke, "Then they do not understand you. That is the danger of being a Jedi. When one separates themselves from others, chooses to lead a life of isolation, denying what makes them a feeling being-it is easy to make such judgments. And such judgments I believe are made in ignorance."

He was so certain, so honest in his appraisal that she felt a small spark of hope begin to burn from within.

"There is no danger in what you represent-other than your humanity." He continued, "You believe it is due to the Force. I believe it is because you are a natural leader-and because you feel connected to the people around you."

He paused for a moment and she felt his words as they permeated her consciousness. Until that moment her emotions had been railing against her, each one struggling to the surface. But the love that radiated from his presence was overwhelming. In spite of his training, love was something he never attempted to hide. To him it was strength not a weakness and in this moment she knew he was right. So many dark emotions had been swirling inside her since the Enclave-clawing at her but his voice, his presence was silencing them one by one.

"Where they look at you and see the death of the Force, I look at you and see hope for all life." He whispered and she felt a chill run up her spine.

"And that perhaps a life lived without the Force is not the punishment it is believed to be. I understand if you feel you must go alone but I ask that you do not. Instead take strength from your connection to others. Do not forsake them as you did in Exile…"

She heard his footsteps as he began to move away towards the door. Her thoughts were only of her companions and what it would mean to expose them to such danger…fleeting images of their broken bodies filled her head, stripped of the Force just like Kavar.

"You don't understand..." she whispered.

Stopping, he turned slowly on his heel and crossed the floor towards her. Gently grasping her by the upper arms, he looked down, his large, sky-blue eyes boring into hers.

"How could you possibly think that I do not understand?" he asked, "Have you not yet realized how closely I am bound to you? So much so that I feel your thoughts and emotions as clearly as if you were shouting my name? Understand that your happiness is my joy and that your grief scalds my very heart."

She felt his strong, warm hands move slowly up her arms and along her neck until her head was cradled in his fingers, his thumbs gently stroking her jaw. "I am fully aware of the dangers we all may face, my senses are not dulled or distorted by the Force. I will follow you knowing full well what may await us. Not due to any mystical, mind-numbing bond that is forcing me to do so but because I will not stand to see you face such darkness alone. Do not ask me to…I could not bear it…"

"Mical…" for once she was unable to find the words as her eyes slid from his.

He gently tilted her face upwards, once again locking his gaze with hers, "I pledge to you here and now that I will defend you to my last breath, with all of my strength and with all of my power. I make this vow freely and of my own will. Not as an unwitting slave to the Force but as one who has turned away from it and returned much as you have. I say this to you now with complete sincerity and clarity of thought."

With a slow incline of his head, his lips met hers. His kiss was soft and gentle, lingering like a spring rain and she could not help but respond. She slid her arms up his chest and around his neck, tangling her fingers in the back of his thick, blonde hair. His inhalation was sharp and the kiss deepened passionately. Bringing one arm down to her waist he pulled her close, stroking her hair with his free hand as her fingertips ranged along his neck. When the kiss finally subsided she moved slightly, resting her forehead and the bridge of her nose upon his. His aquamarine eyes were closed as they held each other fiercely.

"I love you…" he murmured.


	5. Chapter 5

Atton Rand stirred in his sleep, his brow furrowed. Until that moment his dreams had been quite pleasant-he had been on Nar Shaddaa on the receiving end of a singularly skillful neck massage. But the colors of the Cantina swirled in his mind and soon his dream state was assaulted with rapid-fire images of an entirely different kind.

He saw them.

He could not hear what they were saying but he saw their embrace, saw the look on her face and he watched as their lips met. Rage bubbled up from deep within as the images flowed faster and faster. He saw Mical mouth the word love to her and it all began to swirl into blackness. He could hear her voice…she was laughing…

He woke in a sweat as the dull ache in his abdomen roared and his emotions seethed. He sat there, viciously rubbing his temples and attempting to quiet the storm of murderous thoughts that had surfaced when he woke. "It was just a dream…I was dreaming…" he muttered.

"Atton?"

He turned to see the Exile leaning near the galaxy map, arms folded with a concerned look on her face. "Are you alright? I could hear you moaning all the way back to the dorms…"

"Huh?" he grunted, adopting a casual air, "Oh…that was nothing…just dreaming. Prince Charming gave me some mystery herbs and I have been out cold ever since." he replied, purposely sneering on the word "charming".

She raised a cool eyebrow, "You know, he does have a name and you should try using sometime. I would think you would at least be a little grateful that he offered his aid considering how you've treated him since his arrival."

He shot up in his seat, eyes flashing, "How I've treated him?! Listen sister, our little adventure was going just fine until Lord Valiant showed up!"

She stood up straight, "Oh? Is that so?" she snapped.

"Yeahhhhh that IS so," he snarled, "When it was just us and the droid and that miserable old witch things were fine. We worked as a team we got the jobs done, in and out! But that wasn't enough for you was it? Just how many people have we picked up since Peragus anyhow? Are you sure you don't want to stop off and get the entire Ondoronian senate as well before we get to Telos?"

"You know," she retorted, "Considering how often these supposed 'tag alongs' have pulled your butt out of the fire you can hardly complain!"

With that, Atton jumped to his feet and moved in toe to toe with her, "Oh TRUST me, if I was complaining you would know it!" he spat, "I would trust Mandalore and Mira in a firefight any day and as for Bao Dur and Visas, they do their part and they keep out of the way. Even the droids serve their purpose but outside of pumping a little Kolto and snooping around you I don't know why that koochu is along for the ride!"

"He is NOT an idiot!" she growled, her voice low and menacing. It was astounding how quickly he could enrage her. She pressed her fingertips to the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. "Atton, I didn't come here to fight with you…"

"Yeah, well then what DID you come here for?" he asked, his voice gruff but subdued slightly.

Pausing she lowered her hand, opened her eyes and looked at him. She held her gaze, locked on his dark eyes until his featured relaxed and his shoulders loosened.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to talk to you like that."

She smiled slowly at him, "I know you didn't. I don't know what you were dreaming about but I could feel your distress. Are you sure you are alright?"

He returned her smile, grinning roguishly, "Yeah, I'm sure and thanks. Considering how pleasant I've been it's nice to know you still care."

She laughed, grasping his hands in her own, "You know I do."

He smiled broadly at her, "Ok, fair enough. Now tell me, what's on your mind?"

"Alright," she asked, "But I am going to be totally honest with you and I am not going to hold anything back. I am going to need the same from you without this turning into another argument."

"I'll do what I can," he replied as apprehension flitted through his eyes. Gently, she let go of his hands and took a deep breath. Her thoughts were swimming. How could she tell him this?

"Atton…do you…really hate Mical as much as it seems?" she asked.

He took a step back, frowning and feeling the anger rise within himself. He took a moment, forcing himself to calm down and really think about it, "No…" he replied, sounding surprised, "I...hmm…look, the kid has done alright since we picked him up. I know he has saved most of us more than once but I just don't like him. I can't like him. It's a little tough to explain."

"Try me" she said gently.

"You are the worst one of all to explain it too" he said, "You are in the middle of the problem. Look, since he showed up you too have been getting pretty close, the meditation sessions, the little whispered conversations…he's always around. I never see you alone anymore, it's like I'm losing you…" he trailed off, embarrassed.

She moved forward, taking his hands again, "Atton, you aren't losing me I promise you that. You accompany me almost every time I leave the ship, we train every day, I don't move without you. You are very important to me."

"That's not what I meant," he replied softly, "I know we spend time together but he's pushing me right out of your heart. It makes me hate him. I can't help it."

Her eyes were flooded with compassion, "Oh Atton, how could you think that?" she asked softly, "You both have your own very distinct places in my heart. You are right that he is very important to me but there is a piece of me that belongs to you and you alone. No one can touch it. Not Mical, not Mira or Bao…no one."

"You…love him, don't you?" he asked gruffly.

She met his eyes, "I do…I really do…" she replied, "He centers me, when I am around him I am at peace, my mind is clear and he loves me…unconditionally…"

Atton had fully expected her admission to push him into a rage. He paused for a moment waiting for the old familiar waves of anger and hate to come crashing in but there was nothing, he was still inside. Strangely enough, the actual admission was profoundly sad, but it was tinged with relief.

"Look," he said, "I can't pretend I'm happy about this and I'm not going to. But I am glad you told me. That took a lot of guts."

She smiled at him, "Thanks. Look, you have been my staunchest ally since the very start, I owe you utter honesty. Also, I really wanted you to know that this wasn't an easy decision."

"Oh?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"Of COURSE not," she smiled, "You're so smart and charming and funny and…"

"You forgot handsome," he cracked.

"Oh trust me, no I didn't!" she exclaimed and they both laughed.

"I just know that if we were together you wouldn't be in my life for very long," she said, "We have too many walls, we always fight when what we really need is to be honest with one another…in a relationship, it wouldn't work. You would be gone in six months and I would miss you for the rest of my life."

He smiled at her, "Yeah?"

"For the rest of my life, every day." She said firmly, "You are so important to me and I would rather have you around forever if that is alright with you?"

"I'll check my schedule and get back to you," he replied, winking.

"I'm glad to hear it," she grinned pulling him into a quick, tight hug, "Also, be careful. This is exactly the sort of situation Kreia will use to manipulate us. She can feel our emotions and she will force her way into our thoughts. She is powerful and unlike me, totally unapologetic. If you feel anger begin to rise within yourself, if you get any powerful and upsetting images in your mind just remember her…and remember me…I would be lost without you…"

"I will," he replied, "I promise…"


	6. Chapter 6

The Ebon Hawk was banking into a slow descent towards the icy platform on the Telosian pole. The snow flew at a dizzying pace as Atton Rand focused on the multitude of controls in front of him. Landing was always the hardest part and he was hoping that for once it would go smoothly. Elsewhere on the ship, activity was reaching a fevered pitch. Bao Dur had spent four truly inspired hours with the droids and for the most part they were functional again. There were a few tweaks left but he was satisfied that they could wait for the moment. Mira and Mandalore had been successful in creating enough grenades and stims to provide support for several hours of extended fighting and Visas was more centered and in control of her power than she had ever been before.

The Exile was finishing her walk around the Hawk. She had stopped to check on the progress of the others, giving kind words of encouragement to Visas and expressing her appreciation and admiration of the job that Mandalore and Mira had done. Mira was pleased in spite of herself and Mandalore had replied in his usual gruff manner but she could not help but notice a hint of pleasure in it. Hiding her smile she continued her circuit to the Medical Bay.

She entered silently, standing in the doorway behind Mical. She took a moment to watch him as he worked, bent over his computer panel. His features were totally focused as his fingers moved swiftly over the controls. He had been trying to increase the healing power of a life support pack without making it too large to equip to a wrist. While the others were creating the necessary tools for war he was, as ever focused healing. The light from the panel was illuminating the square of his jaw and casting a glow on the strands of blonde hair that were hanging freely.

She smiled quietly to herself, watching the fluidity of his movements. She had always found focused intelligence wildly attractive. Her first real crush had been as a young padawan watching Master Kavar spar with a combat-trainer. There was no doubt that he was handsome but there was something in the set of his jaw...something in the tautness of his stance and the intensity of his gaze that she had found indescribably sexy. She had behaved as a good young Jedi should and repressed her feelings as much as was possible but she had been drawn to him nonetheless. He was the favorite of her instructors and a good friend before her exile. She had valued his counsel, his instruction and his insights more than any other master. She wished she had been given more time to spend with him, to make things right before his death. His loss made her heart ache.

Frowning, she backed quietly away from the doorway. As much as she would have loved to interrupt Mical, a successful upgrade on their current equipment could save lives. She continued on to the Garage, passing T3 and G0T0 on her way. T3 beeped cheerily at her as he bustled past and G0T0 was gliding regally back to his usual position in the main hold.

"Yes General?" came Bao's soft voice as she rounded the corner.

"Hello Bao," she said warmly, "Fantastic job on the droids, they look as good as new."

"Thank-you General" he replied, "Can I help you with anything else?"

"We will be on the ground in a few moments. Will you join us in the main hold?" she asked.

"I'm already there," he replied as he jogged through the entryway.

Turning to the assassin droid she paused for a moment, he looked almost new.

"Are you alright to join us HK?" she asked.

"[Statement: I am fully functional once again Master. Is there something you require killed?"

She crossed her arms, sighing deeply, "HK, we go through this every time. NO killing unless we are defending ourselves!"

"[Statement: It does not surprise me that you are denying me once again Master; especially considering your disturbing attachment to organic meatbags lately."

She arched a brow, "Just what do you mean by 'disturbing attachment' droid?"

"[Observation: I am, of course, referring to your recent conversation with the healer, Master. His declaration of love was deeply distressing to my auditory sensors. He has an alarming fondness for the preservation of life that is an affront to us all. If it is your wish master I would happily employ some…aggressive electronic dissuasion…" he replied.

She straightened immediately, "I forgot about your damnable hearing," she growled, "HK, I would NOT agree to such aggressive tactics and I also fully expect you to be discreet about anything you overhear while aboard this vessel!"

"[Appeasement: Of course Master, whatever you desire Master. I cannot hope to understand the complexity of such choices as I only have the resources of my own meager existence to draw from..."

"Well…alright…"she replied suspiciously.

"[Cautious Query: However, if you will forgive me master might I make one small suggestion? Perhaps you would benefit from an alliance with one more…experienced in battle? One with slightly less regard for the well-being of potential enemies or their squishy innards? Have you considered the Mandalorian?"

She choked back a laugh, forcing her features into a mask of cool composure, "Of course I have, HK," she lied, "Such raw strength in battle! Such lethal prowess! It is thrilling to behold, however I am afraid that Mandalore just will not do. His bloodlust has cooled with age. He is…soft…"

"[Incredulous Statement: Soft Master?"

"Oh yes," she replied, "You know as well as I do that his major concern at the moment is gathering up lost Mandalorians and rebuilding the tribes. That is an attachment to life beyond the here and now. What he is organizing will lead to generations and generations of new meatbags. He could never kill enough in this lifetime to make up for that."

"[Statement: I had not considered that master…"

Her delivery was deadpan. She was finding it increasingly difficult not to laugh out loud but she found herself unable to resist toying with the assassin droid.

"But Mical?" she continued; "Now there is strength! Any one of us can kill an opponent or at least we can try to the best of our abilities. You have observed him in action on Dxun; he is a truly formidable hunter and soldier. But he exceeds all of us in one fundamental way. If Mical is present at the right moment he has the power to defeat death. He has the skill to save our opponents and ourselves, submitting us to a painful healing process and enabling us to face battle again if we choose to do so. Death, my faithful droid is a quick and easy out; healing exposes you to the potential of being injured and suffering again and again and again. His cruelty is awe inspiring!"

"[Astonishment: Master, your logic patterns are most complex! I had not considered this approach. I recant my earlier criticisms and I encourage you to keep the healer as close to you as possible. He possesses a monstrous skill that makes my sensory receptors quiver!"

"I am glad you approve," she said, "Now, let's get to the main hold."


	7. Chapter 7

_Apologies for the re-use of game dialogue in this Chapter - I couldn't figure a way around it without making the next Chapter (which will be MUCH better) make no sense at all._

The Exile joined the rest of the crew in the main hold of the Ebon Hawk. She could not help but notice how closely HK-47 was standing to Mical. Suppressing a grin, she cleared her throat drawing the attention of those in the room.

"First, I would like to thank you all again for working so hard over the last few hours." she began, "The droids are in top shape and we are more than supplied with grenades and stims. Any progress on the Life Support Pack upgrades Mical?"

"Yes," he replied, "I have created a functioning prototype that should double the healing power of the previous packs and is fully equipable. I am currently in the process of synthesizing as many as possible."

"Excellent," she said, "Atton, are you healed up?"

"I'm ready for whatever that old witch wants to throw at us" he drawled, smiling slowly.

"Fantastic!" she replied, returning his smile, "In that case, Mical I want you to head to the Med Bay immediately and synthesize as many of the new packs as possible. Atton, I need you to stick close to the cockpit. I have a feeling that wherever we go from now on we will need to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. Mandalore and Mira, I need you to hit the workbench and upgrade your armor and weapons to the highest degree possible. You have my full permission to use any components I have and anything you can break down that we don't need. Bao Dur I want you to help them out if they need it and oversee their progress. T3, I want you to run a full diagnostic on the hyperdrive and make sure it is humming. I do not want any surprises if we have to get out of here in a hurry. HK, I want you to patrol the entrance ramp of the Hawk. While we are here, I am the only one who has permission to leave or enter the ship. G0T0, I want you to do a full circuit of the ship and make sure that each room is secure. Visas, I want you to join Atton in the cockpit and work on your Soresu forms. I know there isn't much room in there so if you need to come out into the main hold, do it. Just make sure the ship is ready to go. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I have one," said Mira, "Why are you going in there alone?"

The Exile took a deep breath, "I have to," she replied simply, "I do not feel Kreia's presence here but I feel that Atris needs me right now. Not as an invading force but as a friend. The real battle is coming soon but it isn't here. This will just be a quick stop along the way which is why I need you all to be as prepared as you can possibly be."

Mira was silent but nodded her assent.

"You can all get started and I will return as soon as I possibly can. If you need anything, I have my Comm with me." she said.

With that, the meeting broke up as she headed for the exit ramp. Her feet clanged on the metal grating as she entered the hangar bay. Squaring her shoulders, she broke into a slow jog towards the Meditation Chamber. As she ran, she realized that the entire facility was empty without a handmaiden to be found.

"Odd" she thought as her brow furrowed. The silence was oppressive and she felt concern growing in the pit of her stomach as she passed through empty room after empty room.

As she approached the chamber she saw Atris standing there, alone. She appeared dazed, her lightsaber dangling limply in one hand.

"She said you would come here, to this place. If you think you can defeat me here, you are wrong," Atris said coolly, "All this collected knowledge, all these teachings of combat and the Force they are mine to command. And if I must use it to end you, I will. Surrender…you need not die."

The Exile glanced at the walls of the Chamber; there were hundreds of small, hissing holocrons embedded in the walls. The red glow they emitted was unmistakably Sith.

In that moment, she knew the handmaidens were dead and the realization pierced her like a blade.

"You have fallen to the dark side, Atris, surely you see that." she said softly.

"Atris…that is not who I am, not any longer." she replied, "She has not existed for some time I think. There was always something else within me – it just took time for its voice to be heard."

"What happened to you?" she implored.

"The old woman you traveled with finally made me listen to myself-to the galaxy. She said you would come here, and that you would face me in battle." Atris replied. Her tone was hollow, almost lifeless.

Kreia.

Her name was a lightning flash of rage in the Exile's brain. Another manipulation, another corruption, another master fallen or destroyed. The Exile struggled for a moment, forcing her emotions back to a state of calm.

"There is no reason for us to fight." she said quietly.

"She said you were the last obstacle to my enlightenment," Atris stated simply, "If I wished to truly face the Sith, to see their heart, then that meant facing you, this last time."

"I will not fight you," The Exile replied firmly, "Surrender and I will spare you."

"Surrender? To you? NEVER." she hissed, "Let us end this!"

Atris ignited the blood-red blade of her weapon, charging aggressively at The Exile who deflected her easily with a flash of her own silver double-blade. Again, Atris attempted to strike but her strike was simplistic at best. She was not a weapons master like Kavar or the Exile. She was a chronicler and a scholar. The Exile knew that such an aggressive use of her weapon was a perversion to her very nature. It was sickening. With two more quick parries the Exile had deflected the attack and slashed Atris across her midsection effectively crippling her.

"Kill me." Atris gasped, "End this."

"I will not kill a helpless opponent, Atris!" she shouted, choking back her emotions.

"I did not expect mercy from you…here, at the end. After all that has happened between us." Atris replied weakly.

The Exile crossed to Atris, grabbing her by the arms and forcing her to meet her eyes "We have greater problems Atris – and there has been enough killing."

The vile hissing noise of the holocrons on the wall increased in volume as the Exile held Atris in her gaze.

"If you will not kill me, then what will you do?" Atris whispered.

"Tell me where Kreia is" The Exile demanded.

Atris slowly lowered her gaze, "Where she walks is hidden from my eyes…but not from those of her kind. It is possible that I may draw one last piece of knowledge from these holocrons."

The Exile released Atris from her grasp, giving her the space to concentrate. As Atris meditated the hissing of the holocrons grew louder still and more frantic.

"You always knew where they were striking from, you always knew." she murmured, "These Sith are spawned of you, spawned by the Mandalorian Wars…all those deaths, all those Jedi. Their power is to feed on life, until nothing is left except a hollow galaxy, echoing with the screams of the Jedi lost to us."

"Is that where Kreia has gone?" The Exile asked.

"Yes." she replied, "I had thought she was awaiting me at that place but I see now that she lied. It was not meant for me…but for you. She has gone there. She is waiting for you to travel to Malachor V, to finish what you started."

"What I started?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes you are an echo in the force, a hollow space where it has been wounded." Atris explained, "It takes a great act of destruction to create such emptiness, but it can be done. It creates places where the Force is difficult to hear and difficult to find one's way. And you carry it with you always."

"What does this have to do with Kreia?" she demanded, shaking her head.

"Now she seeks to create another echo, another wound in the Force, greater than the one before – greater than the one you caused. It will deafen all touched by the Force until no life is left. You were strong enough to withstand it once – but few have your strength in such matters, especially if they are unprepared." Atris replied.

"Why would Kreia do that?" she implored.

"I do not know but she needs you there. If you choose not to follow, she will murder herself at the heart of Malachor, and you will die along with her…" Atris said quietly.

The Exile felt as if she was being torn apart on the inside, she could only manage to ask, "Why?"

"You are important to her somehow but I…"

Atris trailed off as the Sith holocrons increased their volume once again. The noise was near deafening and bore a distinct threat.

"…but I do not know for certain" she said.

The Exile was desperate, "If you know, tell me." she begged.

Atris grew pale, "She is willing to sacrifice herself at the heart of that graveyard world for you…a choice others have made in the past. A choice I wished to make. It is because I care for you. And I suspect that you alone hold that place in her heart, where nothing else lives. And that is why you are the only one who can stop the destruction to come."

"I have heard enough" the Exile said sharply, "this matter is finished."

"And what will you do with me now?" Atris asked, "Abandon me here on this dead world-or end my life, as I wished to end yours?"

"I need you to see what you have become" the Exile pleaded, "and turn away from it."

Grasping Atris by the wrists, she closed her eyes and opened her mind, her memories and experiences to her former master. She transmitted the agony of loss at Malachor V, the misery of her exile and the suffering of those she had cared for. She showed Atris every detail of what had happened in the Enclave on Dantooine. She showed her Kreia's betrayal and her very personal grief as she held Kavar's body in her arms. Slowly and gently she released Atris from both her memories and her hold, noticing the tears as they flowed down her former Master's cheeks. She could feel the waves of grief and remorse as they flowed forth. Atris dropped the weapon that had been hanging limply in her hand and it rolled away, useless.

"I tied my life, my decisions to the Jedi." Atris whispered, "Perhaps only in separating myself from the Jedi can I become myself again, learn who I am. Perhaps exile is what I deserve…even though it is many years too late, and you have already returned."

The holocrons hissed again, but Atris seemed deaf to their admonishments.

"Leave now while you can." she murmured, "Save Telos - save the galaxy…save yourself…"

Reaching forward once again, the Exile equipped a life support pack to her wrist, squeezing her hand gently in compassionate support. There were no words.

As she jogged towards the exit and her companions aboard the Hawk the sparks of former Sith Holocrons rained down around her.


	8. Chapter 8

The Exile raced to the main hold of the Hawk. The crew was scattered at the moment, working on the various tasks she had left them with and only Atton and Visas remained in the hold.

"The Sith are approaching Telos right now, we need to get to Citadel Station immediately." she said abruptly.

"I'm on it," Atton shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted for the cockpit.

"My Master approaches," Visas said, "I can feel his presence, his hunger…"

"Then I need you with me," the Exile replied, "I want you as prepared as you can possibly be. Go gather whatever you need for we have very little time."

"As you wish," she replied heading towards the Starboard Dorm.

The silence in the empty hold was deafening and it only served to amplify the sound of Atris' voice as her words churned in her mind, "These Sith are spawned of you, spawned by the Mandalorian Wars… She is willing to sacrifice herself at the heart of that graveyard world for you…a choice others have made in the past…"

It was more than she could bear; she sprinted to fresher throwing herself downward. She was violently sick. It came in waves. So many deaths, so much blood, so much misery all spawned by her. Black spots danced in front of her eyes as the room began to spin. So many families devastated, so many she loved all gone, so many innocents. She was sick again.

Gasping for air, she pulled herself upwards, willing her insides to calm themselves.

She splashed cool water on her face, washing away the cold sweat and began to vigorously scrub her teeth and mouth with Cardellian mint paste. She had never been the sort of person to cry and on the rare occasions when she had it had been an utterly humiliating experience for her. Over the years her body had compensated with physical illness when her emotions overloaded. It was not a pleasant process but she found her thoughts always focused to crystal clarity when she was done.

Since the Enclave she had believed that her only purpose was to confront Kreia and defeat her. But at that moment Kreia was secondary in her thoughts. She had saved Atris for the time being but if Kreia truly sought to deafen all sensitives to the Force then her first priority was to protect them all. She thought of Mical, she could almost feel his touch, she could almost smell the warmth of his skin...she vowed that she would never hold his empty shell the way she held Kavar.

As she stood there, smoothing the strands of hair that had loosened she felt him enter the room behind her, his timing was impeccable.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, "Can I help?"

She turned slowly to face him. His eyes were so searingly beautiful to her. They radiated oceans of concern and affection yet they were tinged with something bordering on sadness. He hesitated in the doorway, almost shyly. It made her blush.

"I'll be fine," she replied warmly, "I am sorry I had to leave you so quickly earlier. I know I didn't get to answer you..."

She was interrupted by the grinding of the Hawk's landing gear as they touched down on Citadel Station.

She continued frowning slightly, "I am sorry but I promise we will talk the first chance we get."

"There is no need to apologize," he said gently, "I am very much aware of your obligations and I am content to postpone our conversation until we both have sufficient time and attention to devote to it."

She crossed the floor to where he stood, reaching up she kissed him very lightly, stroking his cheek, "Thank-you for checking up on me." she whispered.

He pulled her close to him, holding her tightly for a moment, his cool cheek against hers. "Always." he murmured in her ear.

Moments later they had both reappeared in the main hold while the rest of the crew trickled in.

"I will try to be brief," she began, "As you are all aware, Citadel Station is currently under attack by the Sith. If Telos falls, the repercussions for the rest of the Galaxy will be devastating so it is imperative that we do our utmost to stop them as quickly as we possibly can. This will be a two-part mission. First, we have to make sure that Citadel Station is secured and that order is restored. Mira, I want you to lead this team. Take HK, Bao Dur and G0T0 and coordinate with the Telosian Security Force to make it happen."

"Yes Ma'am" Mira nodded with a grin, hand on her hip.

"Mical, I have a feeling that Telosian Security is overwhelmed by this attack. I expect a high casualty rate. If you want to give the new medpacs a trial run now is the time to hand them out." she said.

"Of course, I will gather as many as I can immediately," he replied, turning and jogging towards the Med Bay.

"Atton and T3, I need you on the ship. When the time comes we will need to take the Hawk and leave this place as quickly as possible - I have no doubt in my mind of this one so make sure you have everything running and ready to fly because we will be back with very little notice." she said.

"I'm on it," Atton said heading back to the cockpit.

T3 whistled encouragingly and bustled off for repairs.

"That leaves Visas, Mical and Mandalore - you are with me." she said, "Our task is the second part of this mission. We need to get through Citadel Station and to the docking bay. Visas, I know your master is out there and there is no way that we could get in close enough on the Hawk. We need to take the shuttle."

"Of course," Visas replied, "I am ready."

"I'm in," said Mandalore, "But you may be on your own for a bit in Citadel Station. This job is bigger than you, Jedi so watch your back 'cause I won't be holding your hand. I'm going to gather my men and I will meet you in the docking bay."

"Fair enough," she replied, "I'll see you there. All right let's grab Mical and move out!"

Even with the Mira's team deployed and the full strength of the Telosians it was a battle right from the residential side to the docking bay. The Sith seemed to flow in an unending stream, singular in their focus and silent except for the screams of battle. The air had grown smoky and acrid from heavy weapons fire and the smell of burning flesh filled the air as their lightsabers flashed repeatedly. When they finally reached the shuttle, she boarded without a word to her companions and the accompanying Mandalorians. The smell had been a sharp reminder of Malachor, of loss and of what surely awaited them all again. The images rolled in her thoughts as she sat silently waiting to arrive on The Ravager.

She needed to face Nihilus.

Her desire was so intense that she found herself sitting forward, almost willing the shuttle to move faster. She could not ever truly atone for Malachor V. But if these Sith were spawned of her then she had to stop them.

Mical was sitting so very close to her. Close enough so she could feel the heat emanating from his body, close enough so she could smell the sweet, warm scent of his skin but she could not touch him. They sat, with their eyes forward, focused on the mission. The energy of his proximity to her was remarkably soothing considering what they were about to face. She allowed his energy to pour over her, sharpening her focus and calming her anxieties. She regretted racing to check on Atton without answering him. She wondered if he knew…

When the shuttle finally touched down inside the Ravager, she rose and headed for the exit. She could feel the bloodlust from the Mandalorian and the conflict within Visas but Mical was completely calm and his features were set in grim determination.

They moved through the scarred, twisting remains of the vessel as quickly as possible. She had felt Mandalore's disgust when they had first arrived, but as they moved his feelings were clear to her. The ship was an abomination. It was a technological cadaver, held apart by malicious will and nothing else.

They paused only to set proton charges and once more for Visas. She had been an apprentice to Nihilus and she had kept a room and meditation space on board. The Exile gave her a moment to visit her old space and make peace with it. The Exile shook her head, she couldn't imagine how anything could live and flourish aboard a floating nightmare like The Ravager.

As they neared the Bridge the heavy scent of rotting flesh assailed their senses. The closer they drew to Nihilus, the stronger it was. The Exile felt her flesh crawl as a cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. The smell was ominous and unlike anything she had ever encountered in battle. It seemed to reach a peak as they neared the entrance to a small side room. Squaring her shoulders, she entered.

Nothing could have prepared her for what awaited her inside. It was Tobin…or at least it had been Tobin. His skin was grey and peeling back from the bone in places, his eyes had turned a venomous shade of yellow. For all intents and purposes he was dead, but like The Ravager he was being kept together and functioning by Nihilus. The perversity of what had been done to him made the gorge rise in the back of her throat. Visas was lingering back by the entrance. Mical was not allowing his features to reveal anything but his face had blanched. Even Mandalore seemed unprepared although he was fortunate enough to have a helm to hide behind.

"Tobin," she managed to croak, "What happened to you?"

His voice was a hollow echo of what it had been-it was a mockery to the brash, bullheaded man he had been. He was no more than a slave, unable to live and unable to die as long as Nihilus held him in his grasp. The only thing that remained of Tobin was his fierce loyalty to Onderon and regret that his trust had been so misguided and abused.

She could feel the misery as it flowed from what remained of him. He needed to be released, he needed to die. She knew she could easily cut him down where he stood but he deserved better than that. He deserved the opportunity to break his own chains. When she offered him the chance to detonate The Ravager himself he accepted immediately, moving as quickly as his decomposing body would allow to the entry point.

"Mandalore," she whispered, "You might want to call ahead and brief your men about what to expect…I doubt they will be prepared for him…"

Mandalore nodded solemnly and moved silently out the door to make the call.

Mical began to move towards the door, lightsaber drawn but not yet ignited. His features were still pale, but his eyes were blazing intensity, his jaw was steel. He could not speak. Suddenly he raced forward, racing towards the Bridge and where Nihilus was surely awaiting them.

The Exile and Visas ran behind, racing to keep up while a surprised Mandalore brought up the rear. It was as if Mical was singularly focused on Nihilus. He did not flinch at the rows of slaves on the lower level of the Bridge, he could not see them, he could not see the ship, he could not see his companions, only Nihilus.

The Exile caught his upper arm just as he ignited his lightsaber, holding tight and forcing him to stop. He would not look at her, he would not speak, he was staring unblinkingly at Nihilus who turned slowly, igniting his weapon. She attempted a brief conversation, she needed to know why, what had happened to make him the way he was but it was utterly futile. He had fallen so completely, he was so detached from all life that he could not communicate with her, uttering only occasional rattling gasps.

Slowly she released Mical's arm, moving slightly aside and igniting her own silver double-blade. She could tell that Visas was doing her utmost to control the destructive waves of energy emanating from her old master and Mandalore stood coolly back with his weapon trained on their opponent.

The first bright red slash came and it was immediately deflected by Mical's Cyan double-blade who returned the attack ferociously. He moved so quickly and with such fluidity that his blades blurred. Nihilus was not easily dissuaded and launched a blistering counter-attack on Mical, slashing at his head and mid-section almost instantaneously. Mical just barely managed to deflect but took a slash to his upper left arm. The Exile drove the left side of her weapon through the gap of his arm, aiming for his ribcage as blaster bolts from Mandalore flew past, but it was deflected. She spun aiming the right for his back but he launched himself upwards, twisting out of the way.

Visas had both hands on her head, knees slowly buckling, "I…can't…hold on…"she cried.

"You can disrupt his connection to this place," the Exile called, "Please try…"

Falling to her knees Visas made an enormous push of energy that hit Nihilus with the force of a gale storm. His focus was completely disrupted for a few important seconds. Both Mical and The Exile swung their weapons from opposite sides, slashing straight through their opponent and meeting in the middle.

The body dropped, lifeless to the floor.

Visas approached what remained slowly and cautiously, kneeling down to remove his mask.

"What are you doing?" Mandalore growled, "We need to get out of here, this ship is going to blow!"

"I need to see his face," she murmured.

The Exile nodded her assent and turned with Mical and Mandalore, heading towards the exit slowly.

In a moment she had rejoined them.

"What did you see?" The Exile inquired softly.

"He was a man and nothing more," she replied simply.

They made their way silently through the twisted hulk and onto the shuttle. Tobin had just enough life energy left to detonate the charges. They felt the waves of aftershock as The Ravager was destroyed but no one reacted. No one looked up as the headed back to Telos and the Hawk.

No one said a word.


	9. Chapter 9

The Shuttle touched down in the Citadel Station with a soft groan. The sound of the gears pulled The Exile from her reverie. The silence and generally somber attitude of the crew had given her time to think about what to do next. She had not revealed the details of her conversation with Atris to anyone. They did not know about Malachor and what surely would await them there.

Her confrontation with Nihilus had raised the stakes dramatically. To see someone she loved stripped of the Force was one thing, but to see their animated and enslaved bodies was another. Her thoughts were railing against her and whether she wanted them to or not they were generating horrific images that made her eyes and stomach burn. How could she defend herself against the defiled bodies of her companions? She wondered if she was doomed to not only watch them die but to see them used against her afterwards.

Mical…

Her heart constricted at the thought of him that way and solidly reinforced her vow to keep her companions safe at any cost. They were the future of a decimated order, they were the only ones left to stand between the Galaxy and the darkness that was lurking, threatening them all just beyond known space…

Above all she loved him.

She loved him with every fiber of her being. She loved him enough to outright lie to him to keep him safe if she had to. She loved him enough to sneak away to Malachor V and she would willingly die a thousand times just to protect him once.

She knew that whatever was to occur on Malachor V Visas, Mira, Atton and Bao had to be trained, to be prepared and to find as many other Force sensitives as possible. Mical was the key. He had become a powerful Jedi, rivaling her own skills at times. He was exceedingly intelligent and possessed more Jedi knowledge than anyone else including Atris. She knew he would be naturally gifted as an instructor and the perfect choice to lead the new academy regardless of what might happen to her. He could not know about Malachor V. If he knew, if any of her companions even suspected the truth, they would surely follow her to their deaths.

Kreia had planned it this way.

She needed the Hawk, she needed a pilot and she needed considerable time. The first two she thought were fairly easy – she had access to the hanger and T3 could fly. But she had spent most of the flight trying to figure out how to distract her crew long enough. She knew it wouldn't be hard to get a few free minutes but she wanted hours. She wanted it to be too late for them to reach her.

She rose and headed towards the exit as her thoughts turned over in her mind. Mical had not spoken since they discovered Tobin aboard The Ravager and since that moment his emotions had become difficult to read. The Exile found this worrisome as they usually flowed from him like water. In the dim lighting of the craft she reached over to squeeze his hand which he returned weakly. Frowning she exited into the light of the docking bay.

She was immediately struck by the sound of cheering and celebration. Evidentially the Station had been secured and the Sith invasion completely repulsed. Mira was pushing her way through the crowd, beaming. When she reached the Exile she pulled her into an uncharacteristically joyous hug which made her smile in spite of herself. HK was following closely behind and appeared to be wearing something on his upper arm. She squinted to see what it was and laughed loudly…it was a used medpac. He had strapped it to his spindly upper arm which he was brandishing aggressively.

"I like the new addition, HK," she said, pointing at his arm and stifling her smile.

"[Statement: The only regrettable flaw in my otherwise superior programming Master is that it prohibits me from wielding this sort of weapon. But I have noticed the human peculiarity of tattooing images on their flesh to appear menacing. While my appearance is more than sufficient in this regard, I feel that this addition is an acceptable enhancement. It is, however, merely temporary until I can find a decent engraver."

She smiled broadly, putting her hand on the assassin droid's shoulder, "HK, I think it makes you look even more formidable than before. Let me know when you've gotten a more permanent solution."

"[Statement: As you wish master."

At that moment they were interrupted by a member of the TSF. "Admiral Onasi has requested to see you General." he said.

"Of course," she replied looking around to make sure that the rest of her crew was with her, "Please, lead the way."

As the walked through the halls of the station, they passed many revelers on their way to various celebrations that had broken out in the streets. People were moving in throngs, singing, laughing, talking, kissing and passing around celebratory Juma Juice openly. In the noise and distraction, she managed to fall back slightly, surreptitiously sliding her hand into Mical's. "Are you all right?" she asked quietly.

He started slightly, almost as if he had been woken up suddenly from a deep sleep and looked down at her, his expression softening, "I will be…I promise…please do not be concerned. I will not insult your perception or our bond by telling you that it is nothing but I swear it will be remedied when I have had the time to meditate."

"All right," she replied, smiling warmly as he stroked her hand gently with his thumb. They wove their way through the tightly packed crowd without letting go of one another. The Exile found it thrilling to be in public, surrounded by people and to be able to touch him without anyone noticing. By the time they reached Admiral Onasi's door they were both smiling as they reluctantly let go.

"I am sorry Ma'am" the TSF officer said, "But your crew will have to wait outside, the Admiral has requested to speak to you privately."

The opportunity had presented itself.

"Very well," she replied as she turned to the others, "I'm not sure how long the Admiral will keep me. Considering what has occurred on Telos today, I can't imagine we will be done any time soon. Congratulations to you all, this victory is yours and you deserve more tonight than a very long wait in a very short hallway. Mira, call Atton and get him off the ship. You are all officially on stand-down until late tomorrow morning. Go celebrate and enjoy yourselves tonight. We will resume our search for Kreia tomorrow afternoon."

Mira let out a celebratory whoop and reached for her Comm.

"Also," said the TSF Officer, "We have arranged accommodations for you all in Residential Module 082 East. Gentlemen will be housed in the A Block and ladies will be rooming in B Block. You will find your names posted on the doors and your rooms fully stocked. If you require anything at all do not hesitate to ask."

With that her small crew erupted in a cheer and began to head off for the evening, dissolving into the crowd until only Mical remained.

She walked towards him, aware of the Officer's eyes on her back, "I know you may not be in the mood for a party tonight…" she began.

He shook his head, "Most assuredly not," he replied gently, "But I believe I will begin my meditations in the Residential Module."

She nodded, "That sounds like a good idea. I will join you when I am through here but be sure to take care of that arm before you do anything else, ok?"

He smiled at her and she could feel him again, there was sadness at the surface but the undercurrent was pure love. "I will attend to it immediately." he replied, bowing, "…and await your arrival." he whispered, kissing her fingertips when his face was no longer visible to the crowd.

As he turned and headed back into the crowd, she returned to where the TSF Officer was waiting, hoping the heat that had shot like electricity from her fingers to her face had dissipated, "This way Ma'am," he said as he waved her into the room and shut the door behind her.

Admiral Onasi was facing the large window opposite the entrance, staring out into the night sky. He hadn't seemed to notice as she entered the room.

"You sent for me?" she asked, breaking the silence.

He turned slowly to face her and her eyes widened. He was certainly not what she envisioned an Admiral to look like. For one, he was about thirty years younger than the image in her head; he was also about a foot taller and powerfully built. He was obviously someone who had seen battle on all levels and under all conditions. She felt herself relax slightly. She knew that dealing with Onasi would not be like dealing with run of the mill brass.

She was surprised again when he spoke; his voice was gravelly but soft and exceptionally kind. He was also very casual in tone and manner and in those brief moments she felt completely comfortable. It was almost like meeting with an old friend. He told her about missing the first razing of Telos and she was glad that he had been at the helm to stop the second attempt.

He asked her about Revan.

She felt the loneliness within him and she knew his concern was beyond that of a mere colleague. She didn't want to pry but he sat with her and told her the entire story of their time together, of how they had fallen in love and how she had been compelled to leave him behind. That he trusted her enough just on meeting her to tell her the story was absolutely endearing. She also suspected it was not something he had spoken of to anyone else in the four years of their separation. Her heart bled for him.

"Admiral," she began.

"Please, call me Carth" he replied.

"Carth…" she said, "I know you don't want me to tell you if I find anything in my travels…but if I encounter her and if there is any way I can compel her to return I will do my very best."

He met her eyes and smiled which The Exile returned. He was staggeringly handsome and she knew in that moment what Revan had seen in him. To still be in love and loyal to her after four years on his own…she hoped with all her heart that they would be reunited.

His faith in her inspired her to take him into her confidence. She told him about Kreia and her conversation with Atris in the academy. She told him about Malachor V and what she had to do. She told him of the importance of her crew and how they had to be protected above all.

"I know your resources are pretty tight right now Carth," she said, "I'm not asking for a lot of manpower here, I just need time. Once I am gone with the Hawk and they notice they'll be trying to get out of here as quickly as possible. If you could slow them down it could really make a difference."

"That, I can do," he replied, "You're a lot like her you know, you have the same fire in your eyes…just make sure that you take care of yourself too..."

She smiled as she headed for the door, "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Be safe Exile…"he murmured, smiling sadly at her retreating frame.


	10. Chapter 10

The Exile took a moment before heading back out into the crowds to check her chronometer. Her meeting with Admiral Onasi had been brief in comparison to what she had expected and there was still an hour to midnight left.

It was the perfect time for her to make her way to the Hawk.

She needed to make her way through the throngs without being spotted by any of the crew. She had considered raising the hood on her Matukai robes but she knew that she would be the only hooded figure in a crowd of celebratory faces. Instead, she reached back and pulled the tie from her hair, quickly running her fingers through it until it felt even and pasted a huge smile on her face.

"Try to spot me now," she thought as she slid out the door and into the waves of partygoers.

She began to weave her way towards the Entertainment Module, waving at strangers and joining in to the random cheers that broke out in the groups she was passing. The energy was infectious and as she moved she felt her spirits rise.

"You might die tonight."

The voice was tiny…a vague whisper in the recesses of her mind but it grabbed her attention as effectively as a slap. "You might die tonight…" she stopped in her tracks as those closest altered their steps to move around her.

"I might die tonight," she mouthed, craning her neck upwards. It was true. It was a very real possibility. She thought of Carth and Revan. She had left him much in the same way that she was planning to leave Mical right now. She knew she had to go to Malachor V, she knew that she could not allow him the opportunity to follow her but too much remained unsaid between them. What would his life be like four years from now if she didn't come back? She had plainly seen the effect on Carth. He had told her how Revan had pushed him away, using her mission to build a wall between them. She had felt the chasm of loneliness within him, all of his love was tinged with distinct pain as he waited. She could not leave Mical that way, if she was going to die then it would be with no regrets and nothing left unsaid.

"It's not going to end this way!" she thought, her eyes blazing. Turning on her heel she altered her course and began to push her way towards the Residential Module.

When she arrived she found the area deserted and silent. She had not expected to find any other crew members so far away from the celebrations but there was relief in having her suspicions confirmed. She quickly located the door that bore Mical's name and entered silently. He was not meditating as she had expected. He was sitting opposite of the entrance on a small stool with his face in his hands. His fingers were thrust through his hair which forced the blond strands to stand up in odd spikes between his knuckles. He had removed his shirt to tend to the wound on his upper arm from Nihilus' blade which was now wrapped in a dressing and she felt her breath catch in her throat. His physique was perfectly chiseled, his skin was golden brown and his back was powerfully muscled. Her eyes drifted to the curve of his bicep and his strong hands and she felt her mouth go dry. As she moved to cross the floor to where he sat she noticed a distinct, light-headed feeling.

"Mical?" she called softly.

He straightened, removing his hands from his face and turned to face her, "You have arrived…I apologize for not noticing immediately I am afraid I was rather preoccupied."

She smiled at him and kneeled in front of where he was sitting, crossing her arms on his knees. "Are you sure you will be all right?" she asked.

He turned his beautiful eyes to hers, "I am certain that if I could meditate effectively I would achieve some balance but my attempts have been futile thus far."

She moved her hands up his solid forearms, sliding her hands into his, "What is it?" she asked softly.

He squeezed her fingertips gently, "I must apologize to you for my reaction aboard The Ravager, I normally do not allow our circumstances to dictate my actions. I should not have raced towards Nihilus in the manner that I did." he said.

"There is no need to apologize to me," she replied, "There was nothing 'normal' about our circumstance. It was…sickening…"

"It was more than that," he said, his voiced tinged with urgency, "It was an abomination, it was a revolt on the natural order of human life…Nihilus was human at one point…how could any living being inflict such a perversion on another? Do you understand the process that human flesh goes through as the tissue necrotizes? To be kept alive, to be able to feel that…" he trailed off and his eyes slid from hers as his cheeks burned.

She gently removed one hand from his and moved up, slowly stroking his cheek and jaw, smoothing the kinked pieces of his hair with her fingers. "You are right," she whispered, "You are absolutely right, what we witnessed was in the first order of horrific. It was difficult for us all to confront but I can only imagine what it did to you, Mical. You are many things, but you are a healer at your very essence. What you witnessed must have been an outright insult to every natural urge you possess. It would be impossible for you to not be affected by that personally."

"It was greater than mere insult...I have dedicated myself to medicine, I have trained in the finest facilities, I actively seek new methods and endeavor to create my own whenever the opportunity presents itself. For the first time I was utterly helpless...everything I have learned, all the skills I have worked so hard to master were of no help...I have been feeling...useless..." he replied softly, wincing slightly at the memory of a distant insult from Atton.

"You are NOT useless," she said firmly, "You have saved us...without you some of our dearest friends would be mere memory. I don't know what I would be...you have healed me physically so often but I don't know if you fully appreciate how much you have healed my heart. I have come to you with my thoughts and emotions in complete disorder and you have meditated with me and healed me. When Kavar was murdered I…I nearly fell…"

His eyes widened, and locked on hers and she felt her cheeks flush.

"I went straight to the brink…if you hadn't been on the Hawk that night…if we had never met…" she shook her head, "You saved me. You pulled me back when no one else could have."

He turned his head slightly, pressing his lips into the center of her palm.

"Will you meditate with me now?" she asked, "I will use everything in my power to help soothe your thoughts if you will allow it…"

He nodded and lowered himself from the stool to the floor in front of her. They sat, cross-legged with their knees touching, her hands in his as she opened the doors on her emotions. She unleashed all of the love she had been stifling, she allowed everything she hadn't had time to say pour over him. It flowed, cleansing the darkness, cleansing the uncertainty and obliterating the pain within him. True love was more powerful than any dark taint.

At the end of the meditation, they stood and faced one another; "I…need to ask something of you…" he began.

"Anything," she replied, moving into his open arms and slowly caressing the smooth skin of his back.

He held her small frame tightly, resting his chin on her head. "That night on the Hawk when Atton cried out…you gathered your things and left so quickly, without answering me" he said, "You had been attending to him for a while when I felt you. There were…waves of love…such as I had never felt emanate from you before. I assumed…"

She pulled back slightly looking up into his face, the distress was so evident in his sky-blue eyes that it was unbearable to her. "Did you think I was in love with Atton?" she asked, as the concern filled her features.

"I…I did not know." he replied, "I assumed that there had been some conversation with him and I have been trying to respect the possibility that he was your choice ever since."

Her jaw dropped, "I'm an idiot…" she hissed, shaking her head, her eyes wide.

"No," he whispered, drawing her close, "You are not, of that I am certain."

She felt herself blush and she tilted her head up towards his, "What you felt, my darling, was my admission for the first time that I am deeply in love with you." she whispered, "I only wish that it had been to you first…"

The storm clouds in his eyes cleared almost instantaneously. He kissed her passionately and wildly slowly moving his lips from hers and down to her neck. She arched her back; running her hands through his silky hair. Within moments the remainder of their robes lay in a soft pile on the floor.

Slowly they moved backwards, falling gently onto the softness of the sheets that awaited them. Every touch was an act of worship; every kiss was sacred as their limbs and bodies tangled.

She heard a low whisper in her ear, "Min larel..." he breathed kissing her earlobe.

The room seemed to vanish in a whirl of color and the sounds of the crowds outside grew silent. It seemed as if the entire world was falling away leaving them to each other. They were one, body and soul.

When at last they collapsed they took a moment to breathe, to calm their racing hearts. Then he turned and drew her close to him, wrapping his arms around her protectively. They were nose to nose as he stroked her damp hair.

"Would you really have let me go so easily?" she asked, quietly.

He gripped her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes, "If you were truly in love with him...if what I felt emanating from you had been directed at another then I could not interfere. I would have been compelled to let you go but believe me when I say that my soul would have mourned forever. Now that I know otherwise, nothing will keep me from your side."

She smiled slowly, "I wouldn't have it any other way" she replied softly, "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"You called me something earlier...what was it?" she asked.

"You mean 'min larel'?" he replied.

"Yes...I feel as if I should know the term..." she said.

"It is a very old Corellian term. When I was quite young I remember my grandfather using it quietly with my grandmother on occasion. It means 'my love'...I have always thought the term was...beautiful." he replied blushing.

"I quite like it," she said, coloring almost as quickly as he had, "Please continue to use it?"

"Absolutely," he replied, running his fingertips along her cheek, "I could not imagine anything more fitting."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he replied, kissing her softly.

Within moments, he was asleep. She lay in the darkness listening to his heartbeat and the sound of his breathing. She wanted to stay with him this way forever, to lock away the rest of the world.

Kreia was waiting.

The Exile knew that she would not wait forever. She knew that the consequences of failing to appear would be catastrophic for them all. Moving as slowly as she possibly could she gently extricated herself from his arms and legs and slid to the edge of the bed. With as much stealth as she could muster she gathered her things and dressed quickly in the darkness. Checking her chronometer once more she saw that it was reading 2am – it was now or never. She moved to the exit, slipping into the hallway and crossed over to the B Block of apartments. Finding the door with her name on it, she went in and quickly booted up the message terminal.

"Mical, I am sorry that I have been compelled to leave your side so abruptly. Believe me when I tell you that it is the last thing I wanted to do, but I must confront Kreia alone, it is my destiny to do so. She waits for me at the heart of Malachor V and if I delay my travel any longer she will murder herself there, killing me as well. Atris told me that such an act would create a terrible echo in the Force, deafening all force sensitives both light and dark. For the unprepared, it will kill them. Even knowing this, I don't know if I could survive it twice. I know your first instinct will be to follow me, but I am begging you not to. Kreia seeks the death of the Force in us all and she will not hesitate to kill you and the others if you follow…I could not bear that…I need you to stay here and keep the others safe and hidden. If I succeed and if I am able I will return to you as quickly as possible. If I am unable to return you need to be strong and complete their training as they are the last of the Jedi. Seek out other force sensitives and rebuild the academy. Whatever darkness that Revan is currently battling will not be kept at bay forever and we need to be able to defend the galaxy..." she felt her eyes begin to burn, "I...wouldn't have made it this far without you...you've saved me in more ways than you could imagine...If I do not return, remember that I love you with all of my heart. May the force be with you."

She ended the transmission and queued it silently to his terminal so it would be awaiting him in the morning. She then rummaged through the clean civilian clothing that had been left for her, selecting a suitable outfit and cramming her robes into an available pack. It would be much more difficult to spot her in the crowd now. Moving out into the hallway again she crossed over to his door, opening it a crack and taking one last lingering look at him as he slept.

"Sleep well my love," she whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

It was just after 2am and the crowds in the corridors of Citadel Station had begun to thin out. The Exile moved through as quickly as was possible. The majority of the congestion was in the Entertainment Module. The Cantina was so crowded that the party had spilled to the outside and down the halls. She pushed forward as much as was possible but came to a dead stop on three separate occasions. By now members of the crowd were so intoxicated that it took more than subtle suggestion to move them out of her path. It took elbows - sharp elbows. She felt cold sweat break out on her neck as she worried about being spotted by a crew member. She dipped her head slightly, allowing her hair to slide forward and obscure as much of her face as was possible.

She felt an enormous, powerful hand grab at her backside as a loud, inebriated and all too familiar voice shouted, "Hey baby, you look capable, why don't you come with me and I'll show you how to ride a Basilisk war droid…"

Mandalore!

Confident that enough of her hair was covering her features, she hurled an absolutely foul and guttural Huttese curse over her shoulder - a gift from her evening of dancing for Durga. She then raised her hand high in an unmistakably rude gesture.

He let go of her posterior in surprise and she threw herself forward shoving a swath through the drunken and amused bystanders. She heard him shout in the distance, "Your loss princess, I like my women spicy!"

Finally she broke through to the entrance to the docks and finding them empty she sprinted through and straight up the ramp of the Hawk.

Once inside she headed for the garage. Her only concern was that Bao was still aboard tinkering with one of his various projects. She knew that the likelihood of him partying with the others was almost nonexistent but he was no where to be found. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned to head towards the cockpit. Her encounter with Mandalore had been a close call and she knew she needed to burn sky.

"[Statement: Good morning Master, is there something you require killed?"

She turned to her faithful assassin droid, "As a matter of fact there is, several things actually. But first we have to get out of here. HK do you know if there is anyone else on board the Hawk?"

"[Ecstatic Declaration: Did you say 'several' Master?"

"Focus HK! One thing at a time, are we alone on the ship?" she said sharply.

"[Placation: Of course Master, my apologies Master…it is just that my primary function has been so neglected in our travels…"

She sighed, "HK, just follow me…"

"[Statement: As you wish master and to answer your original question, there are no other meatbags aboard this vessel. I believe they were drawn to the festivities with the exception of the mechanic. His services are required at the Telosian Command Centre and he has been absent for approximately three standard hours…"

"Carth," she mouthed, smiling. The man was brilliant.

"G0T0 has also left to meet with some contacts," HK continued, "The only remaining droid on board is the astromech."

"Perfect!" she said as they approached the main hold. T3 was working on the security console but stopped to beep at her questioningly.

"Hello T3," she said, "Can you do some piloting for me?"

The droid beeped encouragingly at her, beginning to detail his flight prowess and the journey to Peragus.

"Alright, alright," she said, holding her hands up and laughing, "You've got the job. I need you to head to the cockpit, set a course for Malachor V and take off immediately."

T3 beeped an affirmative and bustled off to begin his task.

"[Query: Master, I could not help but notice your earlier mention of unadulterated slaughter? My motor functions are aquiver…what do you have in mind?"

The Exile raised her voice slightly as The Hawk's engines powered up, "We are bound for Malachor V HK," she explained, "When we arrive there you will find the planet infested with creatures called 'storm beasts' they are enormous and twisted by the dark side energy that saturates the planet. They are resistant to destruction by force power and possess some dark powers of their own. I need you to find and destroy as many as possible."

"[Statement: Ohhhhh Master…I have seriously underestimated your capacity for brutality. I like you very much."

She smiled grimly, "From you HK, that is a compliment, so thanks. Now go prep for takeoff."

"[Statement: As you wish, Master." he replied.

The Exile had not wished to order the destruction of any creature but she knew HK was the perfect choice for the task. He was totally immune to the use of most force powers and he certainly wouldn't waste time attempting to use the Force himself. She wanted the path to her to be as clear as possible if her companions managed to follow her. She knew that fighting their way through legions of storm beasts would leave them exposed and vulnerable to the Sith that lay beyond and she would not allow that.

She headed for the Communications Console and sat in front of the screen just as the Hawk made a powerful thrust into the night sky. She felt the boosters engage and she knew that hyperspace was moments away. She had wanted to go to Onderon personally, to speak to Queen Talia face to face but her future was so uncertain. She reached into the pack with her Jedi garments and pulled out the royal seal Kavar had been wearing when he died, running her thumb over its surface. She remembered happier times as a young Padawan and smiled. She recalled the first weapons classes she had taken with him and how she would deliberately hold her weapon incorrectly. The twelve year old Exile was thrilled to have her grip corrected by his strong, warm hands. She recalled their later friendship and how deeply she had hurt him by leaving for the Mandalorian Wars. She recalled the terrible look on his face the day she was exiled…

The sound of The Hawk kicking into hyperdrive brought her back to the present and the task at hand. Taking a deep breath, she stood and reached for the rest of her Jedi garments, clothing herself in the mark of her order, clothing herself in the heavy responsibility she was set to face. Her final task was to tie the small seal around her own neck, tucking it down close to her heart and hoping that both Kavar and Talia would forgive her for it. Thus dressed she sat back down at the terminal and entered the command to begin recording.

"Queen Talia," she began formally, "If you are receiving this message then I have not survived my journey to Malachor V. I apologize for not coming to see you in person but my mission will not allow it. Your Majesty, three standard days ago I attended a meeting in the ruins of the Jedi enclave with Masters Vrook, Zez Kal Eli and Kavar. At that time we were betrayed and attacked. I…I regret to inform you that I was the only survivor…Kavar died a hero's death, risking his life to appear with the other masters. He was a powerful ally and on a personal note, a dear friend. I cannot possibly convey in words the enormity of his loss…I am so very sorry that the news is reaching you in this manner and I hope you will find some comfort in the legacy he has left behind. His kindness, his counsel and his teachings have inspired not only myself but hundreds of young Padawans to push their limits… and to be better individuals. He rests in the remains of the enclave under a Tree of Life. Currently it is the only thing in bloom. Please accept my deepest and most sincere sympathies; I vow to you that his death will not go unanswered. I am so very sorry…"

She ended the recording, saving it and rubbed her temples. With the Hawk in hyperspace T3 was free to move about the ship. Hearing the distinct whirring noise of his movements just outside the door she called him in, downloading a copy of the message to his own systems and labeling it "Talia".

"T3, this message is extremely important," she said, "If something goes wrong, if I don't survive this I need you to get it to Queen Talia on Onderon. It is for her and her alone, do not speak of it to anyone else and do not show it to anyone else. Do you understand?"

"Dwoooo," the astromech replied mournfully.

He understood.

With her message secured she decided to make a circuit of the ship, it was so empty without her companions. She had embraced Exile, deliberately avoiding contact with others for years but without the continual noise of the crew the Hawk felt lifeless. She rounded the corner and entered the Medical Bay. The room seemed so much smaller without Mical's warm, gentle presence and she felt waves of loneliness from deep within.

Taking a breath, she lowered herself into a meditative stance, letting the Hawk drift away. As the hours of travel passed she sat in quiet contemplation focusing her thoughts and gently soothing all the nagging thoughts of Mical, her crew and Kavar. By the time T3 notified her of the final approach to Malachor she was perfectly centered and ready to face Kreia.

Something was wrong.

As they began their descent into the atmosphere of Malachor V the Hawk gave a violent lurch, shaking brutally. She slammed into the side of the gurney, cursing loudly at the pain and holding on while the ship banked sharply. From the Garage she heard the high-pitched squeal of metal buckling and her eyes widened in fear.

The Shadow Generator.

It was still active! She pulled herself onto the gurney, securing herself to it as tightly as was possible. The Hawk screamed in protest as T3 attempted to fight the overwhelming force that was tearing at the hull but it was pointless. Soon they were in free fall, speeding towards the sharp, rocky surface. She closed her eyes tightly to prepare herself for impact and she saw him. As the Hawk slammed into Earth he was her last thought, the last scent she could recall was the warm amber of his skin, the last feeling was love.

Everything went black.


	12. Chapter 12

Mical turned gently in his sleep, reaching sideways to pull his love close. His reach was met by the cool emptiness of sheets. The realization that she was gone hit his sleeping brain like lightning and he jolted upwards, wide awake. He threw one leg out to the floor as the covers slid from him and took a moment to rub the blurriness from his eyes. As his vision cleared he scanned the room.

She wasn't there.

Dread filled him as he noticed the silent flash that was coming from the message terminal. He knew that whatever it was, it could only be from her. He stood and tied the first thing he grabbed around his hips. He quickly padded across the suite and sat, hitting play on the message.

"Mical, I am sorry that I have been compelled to leave your side so abruptly…"

He listened in horror as she detailed her mission and her reasons for leaving them all behind. How could he have not suspected or felt any of this? He could feel her emotions as clearly as he could hear, taste or smell yet any hint of this had been utterly blocked from his perception. His brow furrowed in concern as he wondered if some other power had been at work. Something beyond the bonds they had forged.

"If I do not return, remember that I love you with all of my heart…" she concluded, "May the force be with you."

In that moment, he had his answer. She had been so concerned for him and his safety that she had managed to block any hint of her true plans. His raised his hand, running his fingertips over the image of her on the screen. "I love you too," he whispered. He had vowed to protect her, to stand by her side and he would not fail her now. He punched in a call to Admiral Onasi's private quarters but was met with an orderly on the other end.

"Admiral Onasi's quarters, how may I help?" came the inquiry.

"I need to speak with the Admiral immediately," he said, "Clearance Oh-Four-Two-Omega."

"Ah...yes…" the guard continued, "I am sorry but the Admiral is currently unavailable, can I take a message?"

Mical's eyes narrowed, something was wrong, "Where is the Admiral?" he asked.

"I am sorry," came the reply, "But he left strict orders that his whereabouts were not to be released to anyone."

"I certainly can appreciate that," he said, "But surely my level of clearance would preclude such an order?"

"No Sir, I am sorry but his directions were quite clear," the orderly answered.

"I see," Mical said smoothly, "Well, in that case I apologize for disturbing you at this hour and could you please advise Admiral Onasi to contact me at this suite when he returns?"

"I will Sir, good night."

The transmission ended and Mical pounded his fist on the side of the terminal, suppressing a curse. Onasi was deliberately stonewalling him which meant he had either gone with the Exile or was planning a pursuit. Either way, he had to get to the docks.

He moved from the terminal to the centre of the room, letting the sheet slide away from his strong body and down to the floor. He grabbed his clothing and gear, throwing it all on as quickly as possible. Grabbing his boots he headed for the door, yanking them on roughly as he went.

He stepped out into the hallway and checked his chronometer; it read 2:23am. He had noticed that the Exile's message had been time-stamped for roughly 2 am and he was pleased that she didn't have too much of a lead. He also suspected that she hadn't known about the web of emergency access tunnels that wove through Citadel Station. If she had been forced to go through the crowds, she may have been delayed just enough for him to catch up.

He headed towards the nearest concealed access panel and forced it open. Climbing inside he bowed his head slightly in the cramped space and ran as quickly as was possible towards the Docks. As his feet pounded towards his destination he was filled with thoughts of her.

Her smile, the fire in her eyes, the silky feel of her hair, the warmth of her body…

She was more beautiful to him than the sun, more precious than a thousand Krayt Dragon pearls. His heart ached at what she had felt compelled to do just to protect him. He had to get to her, he felt incomplete and somehow broken inside without her. He would not allow any thoughts of failure to enter his consciousness.

He would get to her.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, he pushed the panel aside and jumped out into the docking area. Two doors were open and empty, the third was sealed. He did not have time to argue with the technician so he placed him in a Force stasis field, drew and his lightsaber and stabbed the cyan double-blade into the heart of the sealed Bay door. Within seconds the heavy steel had melted away and the door slid open. He raced in and was greeted by the sound of approximately twenty Telosian Security Force officers raising their weapons in his direction.

"WAIT!" a rough voice called.

Running down the ramp of the awaiting ship, Admiral Onasi crossed the Bay to where Mical stood.

"What are you doing here?" he asked severely.

"I have come to accompany you;" Mical replied calmly, "The Ebon Hawk is missing so I assume she has taken it. I also know that you intend to follow her to Malachor V. You will not do so without my presence."

Admiral Onasi squared his large shoulders, his jaw set and dark eyes blazing, "Look kid, I don't know what kind of crazy heroics you're aiming for but this ship is leaving in five minutes - without you on it."

Mical paused, boring his gaze into the Admiral's, "I did not come here for heroics," he replied tersely, "I came here for her. She faces unimaginable odds on Malachor; surely you are aware of this? I have maintained continual contact with you as I traveled with her, we have worked together to ensure her safety to this point. Why would you deny her my protection now, when it matters the most?"

Carth's eyes flashed, "I'm not denying her anything," he said, "She asked me to keep you and the other Jedi here. She said that you need to be kept safely hidden from Kreia and the Sith until this is over. She said that you're the key to training the others; that you have to lead if she can't. Don't you see how selfish it is to abandon the others? You can't leave them untrained and alone, what if the worst happens?"

Mical's jaw tightened, "Selfish? Is that what you believe this to be? Do you not understand that if she dies on Malachor then there will not be any Jedi left to train?"

"What?" Carth replied sharply, "What do you mean?" He waved his arm downwards and the TSF lowered their weapons, moving back out of earshot.

"If Kreia succeeds at Malachor V she will murder both herself and the Exile." Mical replied gravely, "Such an act at the heart of a dead planet will create a terrible echo. It will strip all sensitives of their ability to feel the Force. It would be akin to stripping a human of their ability to breathe. Both Jedi and Sith would perish almost instantaneously. I cannot allow her to face this alone."

"Why didn't she tell me this?" Carth asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Mical was silent, his jaw tight as his cheeks burned.

"Answer me!" Carth demanded.

"…Because she loves me…" Mical whispered sharply, "She omitted that one crucial point to protect me, to keep me safe. She could not bear to expose me to the dangers of Malachor so she left without warning, leaving only a message to explain where she had gone. She begged me not to follow…"

Carth straightened as if he had been struck; he was only too familiar with this sort of abandonment.

"…But you have to understand that I must go," Mical continued, "I vowed long ago to protect her with all of my power, regardless of the circumstances. I know that you of all people will understand this…"

Carth flinched as the memory of a similar vow he had made surfaced. He had once promised to protect Revan with his very life and had been unable to do so for four years. The recollection was painful, "DON'T tell me what I should or shouldn't understand!" he growled.

Mical sighed, "I apologize," he said quietly, "My intention was not to insult or goad you, but I am trying to make you see that by hiding here my capabilities are wasted. You must understand that if she fails, we will perish and be of no use to the Republic."

Carth was silent.

"I know that you have many responsibilities placed upon you as an Admiral in the Republic fleet," Mical continued, "But I ask you this. If you knew where Revan was right now, if you could see her set to face incomprehensible danger, if you had the opportunity to get to her, would you not abandon everything to get to her side?"

Carth shot him a sharp and dangerous look. His dark eyes flickered with untold emotion but he paused, allowing Mical's words to sink in.

"I will not attempt to harm you or your men," Mical said firmly, his blood pounding, "But I will get to Malachor V this night. The decision rests with you as to whether or not to aid me in my journey. If you will not help me then I respectfully request that you stand aside."

The young Admiral paused, giving the young Jedi before him an appraising look. Mical was bristling with intensity, his eyes filled with determination and sincerity.

"I'm sorry," Carth said gruffly, his jaw muscle rippling, "I didn't know it was like that between you two. But I will tell you one thing, I'll be damned if someone else gets stuck waiting like me…Get on board. We leave in one minute."


	13. Chapter 13

The Exile's eyelids fluttered as a soft groan escaped from her lips. She was alive, the Hawk was down and the interior of the ship was awash in the red lighting of the emergency systems. Slowly she began to move her toes and ankles, carefully working her way upwards until she was certain that she hadn't broken any bones. Reassured that she was mostly intact she released the restraints she had applied to herself and moved into a sitting position.

"Uhhhhggggghh!" she cried, grabbing at the sides of her skull. It felt as if her head had been used in a Wookie drumming circle. She had given it a solid strike in the crash and most likely had a concussion.

The interior of the Medical Bay was a wreck, many of the supplies had been torn from their holds and were now strewn about the floor, the monitors were sparking intermittently and the walls had buckled slightly. She was amazed that she had not been more seriously injured. With the exception of the pounding inside her skull she was unmarked – no cuts, no bruises, no scrapes.

Carefully stepping across the floor, she picked up one of the fallen Medpacs and equipped it to her wrist. Taking a moment, she allowed the effects to kick in and sighed happily as the pain began to subside. Feeling better, she headed for the garage to check on HK. She was shocked by what she found. The garage was almost completely destroyed; the heavy workbench had been torn from its original position and was now flattened into the opposite wall which was sparking heavily. She took a moment to silently murmur a thank-you to Carth. If Bao had been in the Hawk when she arrived she knew she would have reluctantly allowed him stay. Without knowing it, the young Admiral had saved the life of her oldest friend.

She turned to the assassin droid who seemed to be in one piece, "Are you alright HK?" she asked.

"[Statement: I am fully operational Master. In our descent I secured myself to the floor in the middle of the hold. I defended myself from the debris as it flew. Oh Master, I only wish you could have witnessed it for yourself…it was…spectacular…"

"I am sure it a stunning display of physical prowess," she replied, smiling impishly, "But come with me so we can check on T3."

"[Statement: As you wish Master."

They continued on towards the cockpit, stepping over the tangle of debris as they went. When they arrived it looked as if someone had thrown a thermal detonator inside, the panels were torn away from the walls, various wires hung from the ceiling and there was a large crack in the Galaxy Map.

The Hawk was no longer space worthy.

"So this is really it," she thought, "It will end here."

Lowering her gaze she noticed T3 partially buried under the rubble. He appeared to be operational but he had sustained several large dents on his casing.

"T3, are you alright?" the Exile called.

"DwoooooooooooooooFZZT!" the droid replied, "BLAT!!!"

"Can you move?" she asked, kneeling so that her face was level with his blue sensor. The astromech slowly inched forward, shuddering slightly and emitting sparks. He was in need of repair but the positive response from his motor functions was a good sign. When he reached her she gently ran her hands over some of the more obvious dents, "Don't worry little guy," she said softly, "We'll get you out of here."

She stood, turning her attention to outside and the planet's surface. It was a dark and barren place with jagged rocks that rose towards the iron sky. The ground was lined with fissures that were emitting a virulent green glow. Gazing downwards, the Exile noticed how precariously the ship was positioned. It appeared to be teetering over a cavern held aloft by the edges of two jutting cliffs.

"We need to get out of here now!" she exclaimed, "HK, help me with T3!"

"[Extrapolation: By 'help' I assume you mean 'permanently deactivate' in order to make a timely escape, Master?" he asked menacingly.

The Exile glowered at the assassin droid, "Get your shiny metal behind over here or you may be surprised at who gets permanently deactivated!" she growled.

"[Appeasement: Of COURSE Master! My apologies Master! Whatever you say Master…" HK intoned sarcastically as they moved their damaged companion through the Hawk and down the entrance ramp to the surface.

It took a moment for the Exile's sight to adjust to the dim lighting of Malachor V, but when she did she noticed that they were mere feet away from two Storm Beasts. Scenting her power they reared and charged. She ignited her lightsaber instantaneously and rocketed forward with a vicious up slash. The first beast roared in pain, stunned by the smoking wound she had inflicted on its chest. Rapid fire flew from the muzzle of HK's Aratech sniper rifle striking the dazed creature in the arm, shoulder and finally delivering a fatal hit to its skull.

The Exile spun away from the falling carcass of the first beast, slashing at the flank of the second. As she swung her weapon gas from a ground fissure blasted upwards, effectively poisoning her. The beast roared and advanced, hurling a Force scream at her while swinging its enormous claws in her direction. A blast from HK struck it in the wrist, deflecting a strike that came perilously close to her head. Choking on the residual gas, she struck driving her blade forward and into the belly of the beast. It screeched and fell at her feet.

Reaching into her pouch she immediately injected herself with an antidote kit and donned a Rebreather Mask. She took long, slow breaths until the poison loosened its grip on her respiratory system. When she had regained her composure she turned towards the path that would lead her to the depths of Malachor. She took a moment to center her thoughts and found that she could not focus on Kreia.

There was only Mical.

She could almost see his beautiful pale eyes; she could almost feel his arms around her, his lips on her skin. At that moment she missed him terribly and longed for his gentle reassurance. She absentmindedly placed her hand above her heart, feeling the warmth of Kavar's seal. Tonight Kreia would answer for what she had done; she would force her to see what she had destroyed by murdering the Masters. She would answer for every lie and every betrayal and above all she would answer for Mical. The Exile had accepted that she was now stranded on the planet's surface; she had accepted that she would most likely not survive their confrontation but she would make Kreia pay dearly for the inevitable heartbreak he would suffer.

Shaking her head she looked towards her assassin droid, "HK, those were storm beasts," she said solemnly, "You know what to do."

"Rrrrrrreeeeeaaaadddddyyyyy!!!" the droid exclaimed as he jogged off down a pathway.

Turning towards her sparking astromech the Exile pointed towards a small, naturally protective rock formation just down the path that lay ahead. "T3, lets get you tucked away behind those rocks. You should be protected from the beasts there until we return."

"DwoooooZZZZZ…" he replied.

With her help, he was secured for the time being so she turned, took a deep breath and began to stride down the pathway towards her old mentor disappearing into the darkness that blanketed the planet.

Inside the Hawk something buzzed. Bao Dur's small remote had reinitialized itself. He had been suspicious when Admiral Onasi had summoned him to the Command Center and had ordered it to remain hidden, watching from the upper corner of the garage. After the crash it had blended so well with the rest of the rubble that it had gone unnoticed by the others. Gliding silently and gracefully it headed down the ramp in an attempt to determine where it was.

Malachor V.

Deep within its processors a command function was triggered. It stopped short, hovering silently as a holographic version of Bao materialized. He had planned his eventual return to Malachor down to the last detail, programming the remote to carry out his orders even if he could not.

The Shadow Generator had to be destroyed.

The Exile had not expected it to still be active after so many years but Bao was only too familiar with its power. He had built it, he had programmed it, he had watched in horror during the war as ship after ship disintegrated upon impact. The loss of life had destroyed who he had once been. That day he vowed to destroy the generator at the first opportunity. He could never make amends for those who had died, but he had spent years in exile following the end of the Mandalorian Wars. He secluded himself, perfecting the program that would obliterate it. He then loaded it into the remote along with his commands. It was fairly simple. The program would have to be uploaded into the systems of four, separate downed vessels on the surface in order to generate the power that was necessary.

With a clear course, the remote moved on into the darkness, searching for the first ship.

A moment passed…

Then two…

Suddenly the air above the entrance ramp of the Hawk began to waver. Looking at it was like gazing towards the horizon on Tatooine, just on a smaller scale. It quickly moved into the path, following hotly on the heels of The Exile. A ghost of a whisper, virtually inaudible, floated on the cool night air.

"Hawk is down…Exile is en route to Trayus Academy…"


	14. Chapter 14

The Sojourn flashed into space high above Malachor V. They were still establishing orbit when the first message came in to the Admiral. The heavy energies on the surface had filled it with distortion but its meaning was clear.

"Who was that?" Mical asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Look," Carth sighed, "Just because I promised to keep you Jedi hidden and safe didn't mean I was going to send her in there alone. She's being tailed by one of the best warriors I've ever worked with. He's cloaked and she doesn't know he's there but if she gets in real trouble he's there to heal her and drag her out."

Mical stared at the young Admiral with a newfound respect. Until that moment he had thought that the only concern in Carth's mind was whether or not the Exile could lead them to Revan. But he actually cared very much about her safety and the well-being of the entire crew. He had gone above and beyond to protect people he had barely known. When Mical had first agreed to help the Admiral on Dantooine he had sensed his good nature and that is what had swayed his decision. It was good to know that he had placed his faith in the right man. Carth Onasi was as noble as they come and for that reason he breathed a small sigh of relief.

"What about the generator?" Carth was asking into the Comm.

"…still active…" came the crackling reply.

"Damn! Bao Dur was right," Carth muttered, "Look, there's no way I can let you take a shuttle to the surface. They just aren't built like the Hawk. The Shadow Generator is still active and it will pull you down. It would be suicide."

Mical frowned and his heart ached. He needed to be there, he needed to help her, to save her if he could. He would not fail. He took a moment to think, "Very well," he replied, "I will just have to reach her using another method; do you have a quiet space where I can meditate?"

"Yeah," he said, "There is a small anteroom just over there if you want it."

"One more request, Admiral," he said, "How do you plan to rescue her from the surface if the generator is still active and Bao Dur is on Telos?"

"Well," Carth replied, "To tell the truth, we got lucky. I wanted to buy the Exile some time to get off planet without any Force sensitives in tow. So I called for your tech to help restore some emergency power that had been knocked out in the Ithorian Compound. I was hoping to get him off the Hawk and away for a while but he figured it out. He showed up in headquarters to call me on it and when I told him what was really happening he was pretty upset. He told me that he'd left his remote on board and that he built it specifically to destroy the Shadow Generator if he couldn't. As soon as it recognizes the planet it will automatically go into its primary function. When that happens we should be able to get her out of there."

"I see," Mical replied, "But how did you manage to leave without him?"

Carth frowned, "He was ready to take out my men to get on that shuttle but I told him what she wanted and why. He respected that. He's dedicated his life to destroying that generator but with a word from her he stayed behind. That's some kind of loyalty."

Mical smiled, "It truly is and thank-you for protecting him and the others."

"Anytime," Carth said, returning the grin.

Mical turned and headed into the anteroom. Lowering himself into a meditative posture he reached out, beyond the Sojourn, beyond the space between them to her. He could feel her as she battled her way towards Kreia. She was tired, facing continual waves of opponents as she went. He took a moment to bathe her in the warmth of his love and then he began the process of transferring his life energy to her. She would succeed even if it cost him everything he had.

On the surface the Exile paused to catch her breath. She had battled her way through an army of Storm Beasts and had just destroyed what she suspected was the progenitor of the species. It was several times larger than the average beast and far more aggressive. The dark energy of the planet was draining her. It fed her opponents and placed a stranglehold on her abilities that she been fighting to negate. She had not suffered in battle thus far but she found that it was taking longer to heal and center herself afterwards which was worrisome.

Closing her eyes she suddenly felt very warm. It was like being held closely and caressed by someone dear to her. "Mical?" she thought, but got no response. She knew that he was awake somewhere and that he was focusing his thoughts on her which bolstered her inside. She knew he wasn't angry with her for leaving and that seemed to push her exhaustion aside, surrounding her with a new sort of protection. Her focus returned to her quickly and she felt in total command of her powers once again. Straightening she took a deep breath and strode towards the entrance of the Trayus Academy.

It sat in the heart of Malachor V, bizarrely serene in a sea of dark energy with smooth, almost glassy stone leading up to its entrance. It was the antithesis of what the Enclave on Dantooine had once been. It rose like a headstone, a testament to death, despair and loneliness. As she approached several Sith warriors uncloaked themselves and knelt at her feet. She was expected.

When she entered she was met with an entirely different situation, room after room, filled with guards, droids and Sith marauders attacked. Sometimes she was forced to face entire platoons but the love and strength that filled her had intensified her powers. When greatly outnumbered she raised her arm and brought down a violent Force attack which felled every opponent in the room. She cut through each room, blasting aside battalions of Sith that were attempting to stay her process until finally she arrived in the large, round room that lead to the core of the Academy.

The silence was deafening as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim red lighting that issued forth from the floor. She whirled around when she heard the slow, purposeful footfalls of someone behind her.

Sion.

"You should not have come here to Malachor," he rasped, "She will break you, your mind, your body…you will be lost. Return to the surface, let the planet claim you as it claimed the other Jedi…there is no reason for you to suffer at her hands."

Whatever the Exile had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that, "Are you showing me mercy?" she asked incredulously.

"It is not mercy," he continued. As he spoke, he detailed the level of cruelty that Kreia was capable of. He told her precisely what it had been like to be enslaved by her and he begged her to leave once more. She could not understand why he was so insistent, he was her opponent and he had tracked her relentlessly for months. He was the embodiment of the dark side and she could feel the hate, anger and despair as it radiated from him. She wondered if he was trying to knock her off guard by warning her in such a manner.

"Lust, impatience, cowardice... most Jedi awareness doesn't cruise beyond the surface feelings, to see what's deeper..."

The Exile blinked as the memory of her conversation with Atton filled her mind. It was so clear that it was almost as if he were standing next to her.

"I hear you," she thought, smiling to herself.

She reached out, pushing past the hate, past the fear and beyond the darkness that was consuming him. She was shocked by what she found. In the months that he had spent following her and her companions he had become somehow attached to her. It was dark and twisted; almost a mockery of what it should have been but it was undeniably there. She continued to search until she found the grain of light that remained within him. It was the last fragment of the man he had once been but its existence was hope.

He bristled at her, sensing her invasion and raised his weapon high, igniting it. She had pushed too far and he attacked. She barely had time to raise her weapon but she managed to block his assault. She was totally unprepared for the Force Push that he flung at her, blasting her backwards. Pulling herself upwards she powered forward with a burst of speed aggressively slashing at Sion's torso with one blade and spinning to hit again with the second. He dropped to his knees, gasping in pain which stopped her attack short.

"Please Sion, surrender…I don't wish to fight you," she said.

He raised his arms and she felt an enormous dark pull that instantaneously sealed his wounds. Standing, he straightened and faced her once again.

"As long as the dark places of this world flow through the cracks of my flesh I cannot be killed." he intoned, "Leave here, you do not understand what she will do to you."

"I will not leave until I have faced her!" she retorted, "She is personally responsible for the deaths of those most dear to me. I will not allow that to go unanswered. I have no desire to see you harmed but you will stand aside!"

Sion was silent; when he attacked again it was without his previous vigor. Her words were having an effect, wearing down his resistance but he continued to attack. He cut at her brutally, slashing a long streak down her left side and she screamed. It hadn't hit deeply but the smell of singed flesh assailed her nostrils. She threw a Force Whirlwind at him and swung her weapon with all of her power, taking a large chunk out of his cracked chest. Such a wound would have killed any other opponent but Sion was already dead. He only had to realize it. He fell once more.

Seeing him on the floor diminished him somehow in her eyes. He was not the large, looming threat that had challenged her when she entered the room. His defenses were failing him as he gasped, trying to regenerate. The good man that remained within him deserved to be rescued. She attempted to reach out with her power, filling that small speck of goodness with compassion.

It was too much for him.

"Get…OUT!!!" he roared, rocketing forwards and cutting at her savagely. She slammed into the ground, tasting copper and hearing a distinctive crack as her left elbow connected with solid stone. She threw her right arm forwards, blasting him with energy until he fell once more to his knees. She stood and spat the blood from her wounded mouth across the alabaster floor. Crossing slowly, she paused when she was toe to toe with his crumpled form.

He turned his head upwards, eyeing the clean silver double-blade that hung perilously close to his neck. She allowed a moment to pass, enough time for him to understand that she could have killed him and she extinguished her weapon.

"I hate you…" he muttered, "I hate you because you crawl within my head as she does but your presence holds no thoughts, no teachings, you are just…there unspoken. I hate you because you are beautiful to me. And in that weakness lies death."

He loved her.

The shock was piercing to her. He had been so consumed by the dark side that he was almost unrecognizable as a human being. He was so separated from what he had once been that he could not recognize love for what it was; to him it was something dark and deformed, something to be reviled.

"Caring for me does not make you weak," she said, "It is your fear that cripples you. You say that you cannot die but how have you lived? Can you not see what you have become? Who were you? Is there anything of that man left inside of you? You are afraid to open your heart to the light of human compassion…you are afraid to let go."

He rose angrily, attempting to attack her again but this time it was markedly slow. Her words had dissolved his will to fight, his powers were diminished and it was more like he was being pushed to attack. In siphoning the dark energy of Malachor to live he had enslaved himself to its will and could not stop himself from swinging his weapon at her. She ached inside for him and easily parried his attack, forcing him downwards in an exhausted kneel.

He was in tremendous pain, holding on to a twisted desire to be the chosen one in Kreia's eyes. He could not understand why she had chosen the Exile over him or why she had a place in her otherwise impenetrable heart. But the Exile spoke softly, choosing her words carefully. She explained Kreia's plans and her loathing of the Force. She told him that his inability to let go of the Force was precisely why she hated him and why she had marked him for death. Deep within he knew it to be true. He felt the energy that had been holding him together for so long begin to break apart. He fell forwards, trying to hold on to life.

"You were right," he breathed, "I am afraid to die…I cannot face the consequences of this life…"

She knelt next to him and turned him over, pulling him into her lap. "Reach out Sion…if you turn from the darkness you will be forgiven..." she pleaded.

"I can…never be forgiven…" he gasped as he struggled.

"If you truly desire it from deep within, if the man you once were is still in there you can have it," she whispered, "You just have to trust enough to let go…"

His breaths came in jagged gasps as he cried out in pain, "Will…you…forgive me?" he asked and she felt him truly for the first time. Not the broken, twisted being that lay in her arms but the good man that he had once been.

"Of course," she murmured as her eyes stung, "Search my heart and know it is true…"

She felt him touch her deep inside, clinging to the forgiveness and sympathy that she offered. She felt his consciousness as it eased and he began to give in to the inevitable.

"That is the way of the light," she whispered, "Let go…It is not such a terrible thing."

"Her weakness…is you." he breathed, "…As you were mine. I am glad to leave this place…at last…"

With those words he let go as his one dark eye slowly closed. She held him for a moment, gently stroking the cracked flesh on his cheek. As she lowered him to the floor her consciousness was filled with the vision of a young, raven-haired man with warm brown eyes. He was standing in a sunlit field, smiling at her and emanating peace from within. In a moment he vanished and she knew that he had made it.

He was free.


	15. Chapter 15

Mical sat cross-legged in the anteroom aboard the Sojourn, his azure eyes closed in deep concentration. He tilted his head slightly downwards as he meditated and golden strands of hair slid forward, brushing against his pale cheeks. He had felt the Exile as she battled with Sion. He had felt her anger, her compassion and her grief. He felt the injuries she had sustained as keenly as if they were his own. He had tried to whisper soft words of encouragement into her consciousness but his efforts were blocked. The dark energy that permeated Malachor V would not allow it. His heart rate was sluggish as he focused, his skin deathly pale and cold. To any other person this sort of sacrifice would be daunting bordering on impossible but he persevered. He loved her so completely and with such fervor that his mind was immune to any doubts. His arms began to tremble as his essence poured from him like water. "I give you my life," he thought, "You will not fail."

On the Bridge Admiral Carth Onasi was engaging in an intense discussion with the surface. "Can you hear me?" he shouted into the Comm.

"Yeah…getting worse…" came the garbled reply.

"I know," Carth said, "I'm not sure how much longer this link will hold so I need you to listen carefully…"

"Go…" the voice whispered.

"We have a lock on the Hawk. It slid from its initial position but I think we can pull it out. T3 and HK are standing by; we are going to tractor it up slowly. HK will help secure T3 into the cockpit. We know it's heavily damaged but he will fire up what he can. He's going to resist our beam and angle towards the core."

"Ok..."

"The combo of power should be just enough to get it in place for a minute or two at most. I'm going to need you to grab her and get on board. Are you in place now? Can you see her?"

"Yeah…she's hurting…"

"Ok, when you've got her I want you to seal yourselves into the Med Bay with the droids. I don't know what will happen to the outer hull when you break atmosphere."

"Ok…"

"Ok, I'll be waiting for your signal."

"Just…be ready…"

"I will, good luck, Onasi out." he said. Switching gears he opened a Comm link to the anteroom, "Mical, everything is in place, we can get her out."

The voice that replied was so fundamentally different from what Carth was used to that he was alarmed. Mical sounded like an old man. "Thank-you Admiral," he replied, "Please notify me if there is anything I can do to help."

"I will…" said Carth, closing the connection. His brow furrowed in worry. He suspected what Mical was doing, "Be safe kid…" he muttered.

On the surface the Exile had run through two of Mical's specialty Medpacs and was binding her recently repaired elbow. Holding the material tightly with her free hand she tugged at it with her teeth, securing it to her tender joint. Standing she straightened her robes and fixed the pieces of hair that had come down in battle. She was tired and her body was aching but she would not allow herself to appear so to Kreia. Steeling her resolve she moved to the entrance to the Core. She had not heard Kreia within her head since the Enclave and she wondered if the deadly bond between them had been somehow damaged. If so, she hoped it was irreparable.

She placed her hand on the cold, stone door and pushed gently. Raising her chin she strode forward along the expansive walkway that led to her former mentor.

"At last you have arrived. Is Malachor as you remember?" Kreia asked. The sound of her voice was chilling to the Exile.

"Malachor has not changed," she replied, "…only you have."

Kreia sniffed disdainfully at her reply. To her, the planet had changed immeasurably since the Mandalorian Wars. She could sense every subtle change in the dark energy and viewed the Exile's dismissal as a lack of perception and a weakness. The truth was that the Exile would never allow herself to become so engrossed with the darkness. She would never allow it to occupy enough of her consciousness to perceive every subtle change. To her, Malachor was misery, agony and pain and she desired only to cleanse it, to release the suffering into the light.

"This Academy here won't last," she said, "I can destroy the Mass Shadow Generator."

Again Kreia was unimpressed. She scoffed at what she perceived to be little more than threats and encouraged her to do so if she didn't mind destroying herself and her friends.

"My friends…" the Exile thought, "She thinks they're here with me…"

Realization dawned.

On Dantooine Kreia had murdered the Masters but she had never considered the consequences of murdering Kavar. She never suspected the depth of their connection to one another. Throughout her exile not a day had passed when she didn't think of him in some way and at times she could feel him as he thought of her. Unlike the rest of the council his decision had not been an easy one, it was done by what he believed to be necessity. He had felt it was his duty – her blatant disregard for the wishes of the council was clear. But to deliver such a sentence went against all of his natural desires and he had carried a heavy burden of guilt. By proving her connection to the light during and after the battle on Onderon she had eased his conscience. She had once again forged their link to one another. By destroying him, Kreia had committed an act so fundamentally appalling to the Exile's nature that their bond had been completely severed. That was why she had not heard Kreia in her mind. She had automatically slammed the door on her thoughts, denied access to her emotions. Kreia was deaf and blind to her intentions.

The bond was never fatal.

"You…you used me!" she cried.

"Yes always." Kreia replied calmly, "From the moment you awoke I have used you to become stronger than I."

The Exile flinched. "What you perceive as strength is the ultimate weakness to me." she spat, "You encouraged me to set myself apart from my companions but I thrive in their presence. You upbraided me for showing kindness to the weak and helpless and I tell you it has given me strength that you will never understand. You pushed Atris to fall and yet she is redeemed. Every lie, every betrayal that you have set in motion has crumbled before you."

"Do you really think that I care about such things," she asked mildly, "It was all set in motion to lure you here. Every trial, every lie, every betrayal has been to get you here and I have succeeded."

The Exile's eyes filled with pain, "To LURE me?" she cried, "Even the murders? I trusted you! You only had to ask me and I would have accompanied you here without hesitation! All those lives!" she choked and turned her head away quickly, overcome with the sheer senselessness of loss.

Kreia frowned and was silent. She had spent so many years manipulating, so many years orchestrating her plans that pure, honest trust was something virtually foreign to her. In any other person she would have hated it but in the Exile it was endearing.

"It's not too late," the Exile said softly, "You can turn to the light. Please let me help you…"

Kreia sniffed slightly. She had not expected such an offer from her, especially considering how far she had fallen but she was glad to hear it. Recognizing the sympathy that was beginning to blossom within her she took a sharp breath and smothered it with her malevolent will.

"I do not want your mercy, I want you to break." she said coldly.

"Why?" the Exile implored passionately.

Kreia explained everything that Atris had already told her. She hated the Force, hated that those who wielded it were forced to submit to its will. She admitted that she found the Exile beautiful because she was the one empty spot, the one echo where its will might be denied.

"Then why use the Force at all?" the Exile pleaded.

"I use it as I would use a poison and in the hopes of understanding it, I will learn to kill it. But perhaps these are the excuses of an old woman who has grown to rely on a thing she despises." Kreia replied.

It was so heartbreakingly sad that her logic could be so skewed. That she could be so venomous towards the will of the Force when so often it had worked with her and helped her to achieve her goals. Arguing was futile; Kreia could not or would not see the truth.

"Then it must end here." the Exile said sadly.

With a sweep of her arm, Kreia stood at the ready behind three floating lightsabers, all ready to attack. The Exile ignited her pure silver double-blade just in time to deflect the first weapon that swooped towards her. She deflected it but the others came behind in rapid fire, slashing at her and burning streaks in her Matukai armor. She threw her arm upwards bringing a stasis field down around the weapons and they froze, suspended in mid-air. Dipping down behind them she stood and faced her former mentor, weapon at the ready.

Kreia brought down a vicious Force Storm and bolts tore through her body, searing her flesh and making her scream until she fell to her knees. Gasping, she threw her arm forward, Force pushing Kreia back into the wall where she landed with a sickening crunch. She pulled herself upwards and raced towards the Exile with untold speed, slashing at her skull. The Exile deflected the hit and swung the other end of her blade low, cutting deeply into the flesh on Kreia's leg.

Kreia didn't flinch.

She launched another blistering attack, cutting at the Exile's shoulder and then attempting to Force Choke her into submission. The Exile took the hit to the shoulder but was immune to the effects of her strangulation. Taking Kreia off-guard she swung her blade right, cutting into her midsection and then left, severing her useless arm from the elbow down. Kreia screamed and fell to her knees as the Exile hurled a Force Wave at her. She crumpled to the ground and was silent.

The Exile inched forwards, panting and clasping her injured shoulder when suddenly Kreia raised her good arm, blinding her with bright orange light that rapidly drained her life's energy. She felt herself slipping away…she was on the brink of letting go…

She saw him.

Mical was sitting quietly in a room she had never seen before and he was struggling to hold on to a deep meditation as the sweat poured down his neck. His muscular arms and legs were trembling violently. She could hear his voice above all, a memory of a now distant conversation, "Take strength from your connection to others. Do not forsake them as you did in Exile." She felt surrounded by his love.

His voice was strength and inspiration and it reignited her will to fight, "Help me!" her consciousness screamed, "She's killing me!"

They were there.

They were as clear in her mind's eye as if they were in the same room. Visas was standing on a balcony, facing towards the night sky and focusing her energy towards the Exile, "My life for yours…" her voice echoed.

Bao Dur was in the Ithorian Compound with a hydrospanner dangling limply in his hand as he stared glassily towards the wall. She could feel him as he pushed his quiet and immensely powerful energy towards her. "Your command echoes still, General. And I obey as I did at Malachor V."

Mira was in the streets, halted in the middle of the crowds that were still milling around, her head upturned and her eyes fixed on the ceiling as she pushed. "I…wanted to say thanks. I feel…alive…"

Atton was sitting surrounded by waves of shimmering gold light, forcing everything he had towards her. "You'll be right here with me, playing pazaak, where they can't reach you…"

The combined effort forced the destructive beam away from the Exile and back onto Kreia. It held for a moment and then vanished as her arm fell limply to the floor. The floating lightsabers dropped with a clatter, extinguishing on contact with the floor.

The Exile was alive, but just barely. She vaguely heard a voice on the wind as it shouted, "NOW!" and she was lifted by a strong set of arms. She saw a flash of silver armor and the soldier began to run with her. The heavy jolting was too much for her battered body and she passed out.

High above on the Sojourn Mical crumpled to the floor, motionless.


	16. Chapter 16

"I've got her…let's go…"

The distorted voice was all Carth Onasi needed to spring into action. "Punch it!" he commanded and they began to pull the Hawk towards the Sojourn. Due to the heavy structural damage it had sustained in the crash it could not be raised too quickly but Carth was moving it as quickly as was safely possible. The death of Kreia and the destruction of the Shadow Generator was having a dramatic effect on the planet. It was coming apart at the seams. The entire surface was rapidly destabilizing and they needed to get away. "I want us ready to jump to hyperspace the moment the Hawk is secured." Onasi said.

"Yes Sir," replied his navigator.

Carth hit the Comm to the anteroom. "Are you there? The Exile is safe inside the Hawk and we're tractoring her in right now. They should be here in a couple of minutes." he said.

There was no response.

"Mical?" he shouted, alarmed, "Mical! Can you hear me?!"

Silence.

"Dammit!" he yelled, leaping from his seat and running towards the room. He burst through the door and didn't stop until he had grabbed the motionless Jedi, shaking him roughly, "Hey!" he cried, "Come On! Wake up…don't DO this!"

Lowering him back to the floor he turned and called over his shoulder to the TSF officers outside, "I'm going to need some help in here!" At his command they burst into the chamber, grabbing up Mical's limp form and with a word from their Admiral they raced him towards medical attention.

On the Hawk the droids and Onasi's man were cramped into the sealed Med Bay with the Exile strapped to the gurney. The Hawk shook and lurched as it rose rapidly towards the Sojourn. Feeling a firm hand gripping her own, the Exile awoke. A man was hovering over her. As her vision cleared he came into focus. He was older with steel grey eyes that matched his neatly shorn hair and beard. He was powerful and handsome in a hardened sort of way. He had the look of one who had seen many battles and bore a noticeable scar above his left eye. He was large man, huge actually and his big hand covered hers all the way up over her wrist. She lowered her eyes and recognized his distinctive silver armor.

"Mandalore?" she whispered.

"Yeah…"he replied, "Without the helm it's Canderous…Canderous of Clan Ordo."

"Canderous…" she murmured, trying the name on, "I thought you said you wouldn't be here to hold my hand…"

"Don't get all sentimental," he said gruffly, "This ain't over yet!"

She smiled gently and closed her eyes, slipping back into unconsciousness.

Time seemed to pass in a whirl of blackness punctuated by brief moments of awareness. She had jolted to a semi-lucid state when she had arrived in the Medical Bay of the Sojourn. Just long enough for her to overhear that it took three separate attempts to get "his" heart going. "He?" she wondered vaguely to herself. But before she could ponder it too deeply she slipped back into insensibility.

She awoke once more on Telos. Just long enough to notice the gleaming white walls of the operating theatre and the doctor who was trying to get her attention. He advised her that she would require extensive surgery, that the 'shallow' slash along her side had actually cut clean through her ribcage and damaged several organs inside. She answered as best as she could, wondering briefly how she had kept standing and fighting with such an injury and went out once more.

Hours passed...

She was aware of her room; it was private with dimmed lighting and silent with the exception of the hum of medical equipment. She knew that someone was always present with her and she knew that they were keeping her heavily sedated until the pain in her side was manageable.

She drifted in and out of reality in such a manner for what seemed like days, finally awakened by the sound of two voices as they whispered heatedly in an argument.

"All I know is that I was right, he WAS spying on us all along!" hissed the first voice, "He reported every move we made straight back to the Republic, the recordings that Bao Dur found in T3 confirmed it!"

It was Atton.

"Listen, you don't know Disciple's reasons and we can't exactly ask him right now…" the other voice retorted.

Mira…

Spying? She closed her eyes tightly, fighting the drug induced fog in her head, forcing her reason and sensibility to kick in. "He was spying on us? All along?" she thought and the pit of her stomach dropped.

Mical was a republic spy.

Was that why he wasn't present in the room with her? Was everything he had said and done a lie? "It couldn't have been!" she thought, "I would have felt it…wouldn't I?" Her emotions were whirling in turmoil and she gripped the sides of her bed, forcing herself up into a semi-sitting position.

Atton and Mira immediately dropped their argument and raced to her side, their faces were alight with joy as they grabbed her hands. "Are you alright?" Mira asked, "Can we get you anything?"

"It's good to see you in one piece," Atton said warmly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "I'm going to call the doc; he'll want to know about this. Then I'll tell the others." With that he got up and raced towards the door and down into the hall.

The Exile smiled at him and turned to Mira, "What's this I hear about spying?" she asked softly.

Mira colored and turned her eyes away, "Oh, that was…nothing. Really you shouldn't worry about anything right now, just get better. You took a beating that would've taken out a Ronto."

"Mira," the Exile implored, "Please tell me, I need to know."

At that moment the doctor and his team blustered in through the door, forcing Mira out before she could answer. The Exile cursed but submitted to his examination cheerily, forcing herself to appear as healthy as she possibly could. She needed to get out, she needed to find out the truth for herself.

When at long last the medical team left the room she took a deep breath. Her injuries were mostly healed and her organs were in tact. Her muscles were sore and her head was ringing but she knew she could manage the pain. She turned in the bed, sliding her legs out from the sheets and letting her feet rest on the floor.

A spy?

He couldn't be! How could someone as seemingly open and purely intentioned as Mical be a spy? How could he have deceived her so greatly? Her stomach burned. She felt like her heart was breaking. She needed to find him; she needed to hear it from his lips.

She pushed forward with her hand, slowly forcing herself into a standing position. Her legs were weak and they trembled but at least she was upright.

The door opened and Canderous strode in, stopping short when he saw her. "Just where do you think you're going?" he growled, blocking the doorway.

"Out of this bed," she replied firmly, "I need some answers and holing myself up in here isn't going to get me anywhere." With that she turned and hobbled towards the locker where she assumed her gear was waiting. He crossed the room in four easy paces, grabbing her upper arms and turning her towards a chair.

"You're not going anywhere yet, so you might as well sit down." he rumbled.

She shook off his hands, turned and gave him a piercing glare, "Look," she said, "I'm fine. I'm a bit sore but everything is healed up inside. I need to go."

"Well, you're gonna have to go through me Jedi and let's just say that with you in that medical gown I'm not too worried." he replied sarcastically.

She instinctively reached back, making sure that it was still fastened and covering her back. She blushed when she realized that her backside was a bit exposed and fumbled to tie it tightly together again.

"Relax lady," he said, "It's not like I've never seen one before."

She felt the redness in her cheeks deepen, "Yes, we both know you've had a handful of it anyhow" she hissed, "How did you wind up on Malachor? I thought you were drunk?"

"For the record, I NEVER willingly dull my senses," he said, "I enhance. I was waiting for you there and from the moment you passed me I shielded myself and followed you. It was easy."

"Yeah, well it still doesn't explain why you needed a handful of my ass!" she snarled.

His smile unnerved her, it was intense and awash with sensuality, "I had to make sure it was you, didn't I?"

She didn't miss a beat, "Is that how you ascertain the identity of all of your targets? And how did you know I was leaving anyhow?"

"Carth Onasi," he replied simply, "We both served under Revan, he's a bit of a do-gooder but I respect his skill on the battlefield. All he had to do was ask and I was there."

"Well…" she replied, her features softening, "Thanks…thanks for saving me…I…don't think I could have gotten out of there on my own."

"Anytime," he replied coolly.

"I…I always thought you didn't like me very much…" she said, her vulnerability shining through just a little.

"Listen Jedi," he said firmly, "like has nothing to do with it. You're more important to this whole effort than you know. You HAD to be protected and I was the man who got tapped for the job. And for the record, I like you just fine; I just don't like what you do."

"What I DO?" she asked, taken aback.

"Yeah, you and all of your little bonds." he sneered, "Do you know what that does to the other person? People get so tied to you that they get stupid, lose their focus and then they get killed."

"I can't control that!" she shouted, "It is tied to my ability to feel the Force, it is something that just happens, I could turn it off as easily as I could turn off the sky!"

"When have you ever tried!" he retorted, boring his icy grey gaze into hers, "Have you seen how stupid men get when they are around you for a little while?! You sit and you meditate on the Force, you meditate on healing, you meditate on meditation but when have you ever sat and concentrated on that? When have you ever actually focused on reigning that in?!"

"Well it certainly hasn't affected YOU very much!" she roared.

"Hasn't it?" he growled. With that, he grabbed her in his big arms, pulling her close and forcing his lips onto hers, kissing her deeply and passionately, gently moving his hard body against hers. Her head swam, she was so shocked that she couldn't move and when he finally released her from his hot embrace she stood there stiffly, her mouth opening and closing silently.

"You'd better try a little harder princess," he said lowly, as his eyes darkened, "Or someday someone is going to come along who isn't as understanding as I am and he'll cut your pretty boy's little throat."

Any attempt at retorting failed her. She stood there gaping at him.

"Now, I came here to tell you that I'm leaving. This mission is finished and my men need me. I'll be on Dxun if you need anything…" he trailed off.

She swallowed, giving her jumbled thoughts a mental slap. She took a breath and found her balance once again, "I am sorry Canderous…I didn't know I was affecting you at all…"

He waved her apology off with his hand and a low grunt.

"I'll meditate on this," she continued, "I really will try but I think you're wrong about Mical…I don't think he was ever really mine. I overheard Atton and Mira; I know he's a spy…"

"You really are an idiot sometimes, you know that?" he said gruffly.

Her temper flared once more, "WHAT?!" she exclaimed.

"Listen sister," he said, "before you shoot your mouth off you should make sure you have your facts straight. That kid loves you. He wasn't reporting to the Republic on you, he was staying in touch with Onasi while we traveled. He was trying to protect you and you can't tell me that having Onasi around didn't come in handy."

"No, of course not but…"

He cut her off, "I'm not done yet. While you were running around on Malachor trying your damnedest to get killed he was sitting on the Sojourn right above you. I don't know what the hell he did but on that planet you were stronger then I've ever seen you. Don't tell me you didn't notice."

"I…well, I thought I felt him once…" she said, "I know I was stronger in battle and recovered more quickly…"

"Yeah, well that was him," Canderous said pointedly, "I don't know what he did but you were easily twice as strong as I've ever seen. It almost killed him; actually it did kill him for a few minutes. From what I heard it took three tries to bring him back. He's down the hall out cold and he's been that way for two days. So don't tell me that he doesn't love you lady. You may have bound me and the rest of the crew to you but not one of us is stupid enough to do THAT for you."

Three times.

She panicked outright, not even attempting to make a pretense of calm. Her heart was racing and she was shaking as she grabbed Canderous, "Where is he?" she demanded, "You have to take me to him NOW!"

He looked at into her dark eyes; he could see the waves of terror and desperation and his resolve to keep her in her room crumbled. "Follow me" he said, exiting the room quickly as she followed closely behind.

They didn't have far to go, Mical was three doors down the hall. They entered silently and she stopped taking in the sight of him. He looked the same as he did on the night she left for Malachor. His soft blonde hair was splayed on the pillow, his beautiful eyes gently shut as golden lashes brushed his cheeks. His large, tanned arms were arranged neatly above the sheets, his strong hands resting next to his hips. He was so strikingly gorgeous to her and in that moment all of her emotions rushed in like a tidal wave. She loved him so utterly that she could not bear the thought of him deliberately injuring himself for her. Her eyes stung as a wave of nausea hit her. She was snapped momentarily from her reverie by a large hand on her shoulder.

"Listen, I need to straighten out the opinions of the crew concerning this whole 'spying' thing and then I need to get going," Canderous said softly, "There isn't anything wrong with him physically. I'm sure he'll come out of it soon."

She turned to face him, her eyes shining and nodded, biting her lip. "I'm sure he will," she said shakily, "Have a safe journey Canderous and thank-you for…everything."

"Don't worry about it, little girl" he said, pulling her into a brief hug. With that he released her and exited into the hall, closing the door gently behind him.

She crossed the floor as sat on the bed next to Mical running her hand up and down his arm. Leaning in she whispered into his ear, "Are you in there darling? It's me, I'm here and I'm safe and I need you to come back now."

No response.

She stood and undid the ties that held her gown together allowing it to drop to the floor. She walked around to the other side of the bed and slid in under the sheets next to him. She turned towards him, nestling into his side and sliding one arm across his chest. She entwined her legs with his and stroked his hair gently, kissing his cheek. She whispered sweetly into his ear, telling him of her love for him, of Malachor and of her hopes and dreams. She would not go forward without him and she continually begged him to return to her. She held him, whispering in the dark until sleep overtook her and she fell into a heavy, dreamless state.

"Min larel…"

It was a whisper on the wind, a voice adrift in the early morning air. As the Exile awakened she doubted that she had actually heard anything.

"Min larel…"

This time it was unmistakable and her eyes snapped open. She turned her head slowly and was met by his gentle, sky-blue gaze. "Mical!" she whispered breathlessly, winding her arms around his shoulders and kissing him feverishly. He pushed his fingers through her thick hair, cradling her face in his hands and returning her passion with equal force. Breaking away from his lips she kissed his face wildly, running over his cheeks, jaw and brow as tears of joy streamed down her cheeks.

"I was so afraid," she gasped, "I thought I'd lost you…"

He returned his hands to her face, gently turning her attention back to his beautiful large eyes. She could see them shining, his own joy barely contained. He brushed away her tears with his large thumbs, "I am so sorry for any pain that you have endured," he whispered softly, "It was my full intention to return to you immediately when I felt the end of Malachor but my concentration was pulled in another direction. The shock was very nearly disastrous which I am sure you are aware of but it was necessary. Unfortunately, such a distraction skewed my sense of direction…I became lost…I could not find my way back to consciousness, back to reality. Then I heard your voice…it was a whisper at first but as I focused it grew both in volume and intensity. I heard you as you called to me, I felt your love surround me and I followed the resonance back to you."

Her eyes flowed as she tucked her head in by his neck, holding him tightly, her body racked with sobs. He ran his hands gently along her back; kissing the top of her head and for the first time she was utterly unashamed of such an emotional display. She felt safe in his arms and accepted. When her tears finally subsided, she slowly raised her head, looking deeply into his eyes. "I am sorry," she whispered, knowing that her apology wasn't necessary, "I haven't cried since I was a little girl…I'm just so happy…so relieved…"

He stroked her face tenderly and leaned in, kissing her warmly and passion flared through her like liquid fire, "I vowed to always stand by your side," he whispered intensely, "We are reunited, we are one, I will never leave you…" He kissed her deeply, running his hands along the length of her body and she responded instinctually, pulling him towards her.

They made love all day, in every way imaginable and in every place that was possible. On the bed, in the fresher and on the balcony until they were both too exhausted to move and collapsed together in bed, a tangle of fatigued limbs, sleeping heavily in one another's arms.

Early the next morning, they were awakened by the incessant chirp of the Comm Terminal. Climbing out of bed she grabbed her fallen gown and wrapping it tightly around her she sat and accepted the message.

"Wellll…good morning," came a familiar sarcastic drawl, "Do you think you two might be up to joining the rest of the world today?" Atton asked giving a roguish wink.

She blushed slightly, smiling, "Perhaps, we did sort of skip eating yesterday…"

He laughed out loud, "Ok well the Admiral has invited us all to breakfast in his quarters in half an hour so if you could get Mical together and get over here that would be great."

Mical.

Atton had called him by his name. She beamed at him, "I'll do my best, see you soon!" she said, terminating the call just after he gave her another wink and a salute.

Within half an hour, they were both up, clean and dressed in their finest Norris robes. They walked hand in hand, their heads held high towards the Admiral's quarters ignoring the stares of those they passed. When they arrived the remainder of the crew was already assembled talking loudly and picking at the wide variety of fruits and breads that were arranged on the table.

Their arrival was met by a loud cheer, Mira and Visas hugged her tightly and to her total surprise Atton strode forward and shook Mical's hand firmly as both Carth and Bao Dur clapped him on the back. She overheard Atton say, "You saved her…thanks…just take care of her ok?" and Mical smiled, promising to do his very best.

When Admiral Onasi arrived they settled in to food, laughter and an informal debriefing of the occurrences on Malachor V. When she spoke of Kreia Atton interrupted her briefly, "You were right you know," he said, "You told me that she would try to get into my head, to make me see THINGS…Well, I don't think she knew that I was still here on Telos because she tried it that night. She filled my head with so many horrible images, forcing open the doors on my hate. I felt like I wanted to kill someone…anyone. I knew I was a danger to everyone in the room so I got out of the party as quickly as I could. I walked up to the first TSF officer I saw and punched him right in the face."

She recalled the moment on Malachor when she had visualized him with the shimmering waves of gold around him, "Don't TELL me you were in jail…again!" she chastised, laughing.

"Hey, it was a trumped up charge," he replied chuckling, "Anyhow, everyone was safe and I only got a few mild electrical burns."

They all laughed heartily and moved on to the next topic.

"What next…" the Exile said, "Well, the enclave on Dantooine needs to be rebuilt first and foremost and you all need to finish your training. I have decided that the teaching will be a cooperative effort between both myself and Mical. He will design the curriculum and I will focus on the weapons and physical training aspects. When you become full Jedi Knights, we will begin our task of gathering new Jedi initiates and grow from there. That is, if you are all still interested in tagging along with us."

They all nodded in ready agreement, even Bao Dur who she had fully expected to express an interest in returning to Iridonia. The only mild dissent was from Visas who felt that she could not progress in her training without returning to her home world to make peace with the destruction that occurred there. "Of course," the Exile concurred, "Please take your time and return to us when you are ready."

"Thank-you," Visas said softly.

With a few more brief words the meeting dissolved. They had decided to rest on Telos for the week and then they would return to Dantooine to begin the monumental task of rebuilding. She decided to herself that in that week she would make a personal trip to Onderon to see the Queen and to return the seal that still hung around her neck.

As her crewmates exited the room she lingered with Mical, he seemed to be awaiting the opportunity to speak with Carth privately. When they were quite alone he closed the door tightly. Carth raised a questioning eyebrow and Mical began.

"Admiral," he began, "I bear a message for your ears only…it is from Revan…"

"What?" Carth asked, his spine straightening sharply and his eyes intensifying, "What do you mean?"

The Exile's eyes widened and she stared at Mical, he was deadly serious. She gripped the back of a chair for support, drinking in his words.

"Admiral, when the danger of Malachor V was neutralized I should have awoken from my meditation but something happened to me. My consciousness was pulled from the situation at hand and forced towards Revan." he said, "She needs your help."

Carth jumped to his feet, willing the information out of Mical.

"The dreams and visions that she had while you were together," Mical continued delicately, "They were lies…illusions fed to her by the dark side. I think they were brought on largely by Kreia. She lured Revan to the edge of the galaxy, to the place where the darkness lies in order to trap her there and neutralize her power. Revan is a powerful servant of the light, so powerful in fact that Kreia did not have the strength to murder her. So she did what she has always done best, she manipulated her and imprisoned her where she could not interfere. She lies in a form of stasis beyond the outer rim."

"Where," he implored banging his hand on the table, "Dammit! I need to get to her!"

"I cannot tell you precisely where as when I conversed with her it was on a different plane of reality, but with Kreia gone and her hold dissolved she is trying to contact you. She is trying to lead you to where she waits. You need to listen carefully, especially at night and she will guide you to her. Go with as much love in your heart as you can muster," he said softly, "That is the only true defense against the darkness, the only thing that can shrink it to nothingness and Kreia knew that."

"I will," Carth said, his handsome face blazing with intensity, "If I can just hear her than nothing in this universe will stop me from getting to her."

"You will," said Mical taking the Exile by the hand and heading towards the door, "And when you do, don't waste a moment."

"I won't," Carth replied firmly, "And…thank-you…"

Mical smiled and they exited into the hall, he knew that in the morning Carth would be gone, off to the outer rim and that Admiral Shan would be in charge of the fleet. They returned to their quarters. "That was amazing…" the Exile said, "I was waiting to get the call, the pull to the Outer Rim drawing me away from all of those I care about…I was wondering why it hadn't come…"

"If you think you could sneak off on me twice…" he began, gripping her shoulders and looking down at her intensely.

"Don't worry," she said smiling, "I planned to damn the call straight back to wherever it came from and close my thoughts to it. My place is here with you, my destiny is with you and the academy. I return your vow with all of my heart; I will never leave your side again."

He leaned in slowly, kissing her softly and passionately, "Marry me, min larel?" he whispered.

"Yes," she replied returning his kiss with fervor, "Yes, my darling."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The End.


End file.
